


For the Love of the Game (temporary hiatus)

by twinyards



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: All For The Game - Freeform, Andreil, M/M, Multi, PSU Foxes, the foxhole court - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2018-10-28 06:05:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10825293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinyards/pseuds/twinyards
Summary: What if Neil’s mom had not only stolen Neil away on that night but also Kevin? What if Kevin and Neil were raised on the run together, but instead of watching from afar, they learned to play Exy in every country they ran to? What if Neil and Kevin developed a brother bond super strong from living on the run together and trying to keep each other alive?-“Because you’d get to play together.”He swore he heard Neil’s heart stop and start again in time with his own. He could die a thousand times and never hear a more perfect sentence. He and Neil, side by side on the court. Playing Class I Exy. He wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life....Underneath the mask that was Samuel Josten, what was left of Kevin Day thought it was probably worth dying for.





	1. Prologue: Before they were Foxes

**Author's Note:**

> As a note, the first few chapters are going to feel a little redundant. Things from the book will be re-explained to death, but after the first two chapters that will go away!  
> The title is a play on the series title, as well as a (great) movie!

“You’re leaving."

Nathaniel turned slightly to find Kevin standing behind him, fist closed tight around the handle of his racket. Kevin was wearing his Raven’s jersey without armor, and he looked like he was drowning in it.

Nathaniel envied that Kevin and Riko were Ravens without being Ravens. They were far too young to be on the team, but they had their own jerseys, their own room at the Nest. They would have Exy for life, would play for an undefeated team, and Nathaniel had just played his last ever scrimmage with them this afternoon. Nathaniel was sick with the unfairness of it.

Poking out from beneath the black collar of Kevin’s jersey were yellowing bruises. They weren’t Exy bruises. If Nathaniel looked closely, they look remarkably like fingers. He was all-too aware of what it felt like when those bruises made their first acquaintance with his skin. Nathan Wesninski was never gentle, and he found rage in himself daily to want to strangle the life out of Nathaniel. The bruises were peculiar on Kevin, however. Nathaniel couldn’t think of what situation could possibly have lead to a hand wrapped around Kevin’s throat.

Nathaniel didn’t reply, but they both knew the answer. Kevin nodded knowingly. There was a grim set to his mouth and a dead look in his eye. Nathaniel was all too familiar with that expression.

"We were supposed to be Court."

The phrase set Nathaniel’s heart jack hammering. Coming from Kevin Day, a promise of Court meant something. Even though they were children in Little Leagues. There was a new ache in his chest as Nathaniel thought about the extent of all he was losing. High school, University, Pros, _Court_. It wasn’t fair.

It didn’t matter. Couldn’t matter. Nathaniel loved Exy more than he knew how to describe, and wanted the future Kevin saw for him in it more than he could imagine was possibly healthy, but he loved living more. And life with Nathan Wesninski was not living.

Kevin and Riko would make it to Court. They were too good not to. That had to be enough for Nathaniel. It would hurt, watching them from motel room TVs and knowing he could have been right there with them, but at least Nathaniel would be alive. He swallowed back his endless wanting long enough to answer. "You still will."

If possible, Kevin gripped his racket even more possessively, but he didn’t look reassured by Nathaniel’s sentiment. His shoulders sagged a little, and for a moment Nathaniel thought he saw the shine of tears in Kevin’s eyes. There was no hope on Kevin’s face. No excitement at the thought of Court or the fame speckled life that was undoubtedly his future. Very slowly, Kevin reached up and touched the black 2 on his cheekbone. Nathaniel couldn’t help but think of the matching 1 on Riko Moriyama’s face. They were too young for tattoos, but the sharpie marks never faded. Neil had watched them trace over each other’s numbers twice already during his short stay at Evermore. Only this time, Kevin wasn’t smiling pridefully at Riko or Tetsuji Moriyama. Kevin looked destroyed. For a boy so young and with so much promise, Kevin looked an awful lot like he was waiting to die.

"It won’t matter.” Kevin had a longing in his voice Nathaniel knew like the back of his hand. It matched his own perfectly. It shocked Nathaniel to realize just how similar they might be. “I will always be second best. And I will never be free."

Kevin’s hand traveled down to the bruises lining his throat. Nathaniel said nothing. He wasn’t sure there was anything to say to comfort the older boy, and he didn’t understand what Kevin meant. Riko and Kevin were best friends. Brothers. _Family_. How could Kevin possibly not be free?

Nathaniel let the pieces click into place in his mind: Kaleigh Day dead, the numbers marking Kevin and Riko’s cheeks, Riko always having the last word, Coach Moriyama’s undefeated record, the cruel set to both Moriyama mouths.

The weight of the realization hit Nathaniel like a freight train, and suddenly he didn’t envy Kevin quite so much. They really were the same. Child prisoners made to fit a mold, to make themselves useful or suffer the agonizing consequences. Nathaniel hated himself for being relieved that he wasn’t the only one suffering.

Nathaniel didn’t trust his voice not to betray him, so he stayed silent. They stood in silence for several long moments before Kevin spoke again. "Could I come with you?"

Nathaniel’s eyes widened. Kevin glanced at the dufflebag Nathaniel had stuffed with all his Exy gear, the tennis shoes on his feet that were braced for flight. Kevin’s eyes were calculating, but approving. He didn’t know that Nathaniel’s mother, Mary Hatford, would more than likely make Nathaniel throw all of his most prized possessions, every piece of his Exy gear, away as pieces of a life he was no longer allowed to have if he wanted to survive.  

"You might never play again.” Nathaniel told him, and hated that he had to say it. He didn’t want Kevin Day to think Nathaniel was willing give up Exy. That was too big a sin for Kevin to comprehend or accept.

Kevin stared at him, a hint of his normal arrogant, angry expression on his face. “I will play, and so will you. Even if we must only play in secret.”

It was all Nathaniel needed to hear. His heart was an Exy ball slamming against the court wall. With Kevin by his side, he didn’t have to give up Exy; at least not completely. Kevin was single minded in his veracious pursuit of being the best, and he would always find a way to improve. Kevin would practice and he would invent new drills and he would continue to be the best, no matter what the number staining his cheekbone implied. And Nathaniel would be right next to him, absorbing everything.  

Nathaniel nodded, mind already racing with ways to make it work. His mother would fight tooth and nail to leave Kevin behind, but if they held fast he believed in the end she would take Kevin too just for the sake of not losing anymore time. “Do you need to take anything else?"

Kevin shook his head, holding up his racket and gesturing to the duffle bag slung at his side. Nathaniel hadn’t notice it before. There was a rush of blood through his body at the realization that Kevin had always intended to leave with him. He’d chosen Nathaniel and freedom over Riko and fame.

"No.” Kevin affirmed, sounding significantly more alive with the promise of leaving Evermore behind. If Neil hadn’t seen the bruises, if they hadn’t watched his father cut a man to pieces just hours ago, he wouldn’t have understood. But he had, and he did, so he simply nodded and slung his own bag over his shoulder.

“Then let’s go."


	2. How they Began

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recruitment.

**Neil:**

“We won. We should be happier about that.”

Even as he spoke them, Neil Josten knew his words were worthless. Beside him, Samuel let out a bitter snort. They should have been happy, a win was a win, but of course they weren’t. Exy was more than a sport to Neil and Samuel; it was their every want and wish, their pride and their shame, but more than that it was a way to live when they were always waiting to die. Neil and Samuel wanted to be the best Exy players there ever was. The Millport Dingos may have won the match and advanced, but they’d barely managed it. A one point win was a disgrace.

Playing for Millport had been a particularly stupid decision on both their accounts. Neil knew that without having to be told. Children on the run were not to draw attention to themselves. That was rule number one. However, Neil and Samuel were alone in the world, save for each other. There had been no one to talk them out of their stupidity. Once upon a time, Neil’s mother, Mary Hatford, had been their guide and teacher, forcing them to think smarter and fight harder and run faster. Now her charred bones were buried in the black sands of a California beach.

Neil’s fingers twitched with the need for a cigarette whenever he thought of her. He didn’t smoke, but he longed for just for the acrid smell of the smoke that was as comforting as it was horrible. He had a pack in the duffle bag at his feet, but he didn’t reach for them. Samuel would undoubtedly scowl and complain if Neil lit one up. He tolerated Neil’s habit only when Neil was in the most dire of moods, however each stick came with a scornful lecture about secondhand smoke ruining his lungs and making him a weaker player on the court.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Nathaniel.” Samuel muttered with annoyance. The use of Neil’s real name nearly made him flinch. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had said his real name aloud. Nathaniel Wesninski hadn’t been a real person in quite some time. “This is a pathetic excuse for a team. We are too good for it. And _you,_ ” he snarled, pointing a steely gaze on Neil, “need to stop holding back.”

Neil scowled back at him. They’d had this argument a thousand times before. It never changed. “It’s bad enough that we’re on the team at all, _Kevin_.” He used Samuel’s real name with malice and watched him go still for a moment. Neil was relieved it still had some effect. Their true names were something to be feared. They were secrets better left in the dark, locked away behind walls meant for no one to climb. “We’ve already disgraced her wishes enough. The least I can do is try not to draw so much attention.”

By _her_ he meant his mother. Mary had never tolerated their obsession well on the run. She hated Exy with a violence that rivaled his father’s rage. Their practices she’d tolerated in short bursts, only because they kept the boys fit enough to run, and because an Exy racket did remarkable damage to human bones with a hard enough swing. Neil and Samuel had scrimmaged over the years with strangers, practiced when they should have slept, honed as much skill as they could while still evading their collaborative demons.

Neil’s demon was his father, who wanted Neil dead for the money his mother had stolen and the embarrassment he’d caused by breaking a deal with the family he served. The family Samuel feared more than anything. The Moriyama’s were Samuel’s demons. Back when Samuel had been Kevin Day, he’d belonged to them.

They’d been running for eight long years. Seven with Mary, and this first cruel one on their own. Without Mary to guide them, they’d landed in the small town of Millport, Arizona and made the most reckless decision of their lives. They’d become Neil and Samuel Josten, and they’d joined the Millport Dingos Exy team.

Neil and Samuel had been walking zombies for seven years. Playing Exy, _actually playing_ with a real team, albeit a sub-par one, had brought air swooping back into their lungs to clear the cobwebs that had taken residence there. Aside from each other and the dufflebags lying at their feet, Exy was all they had left. Aside from each other, Exy was the only something that meant anything to either boy anymore.

“We should be getting ready to play for Court.” Samuel’s voice was nearly a growl. He kicked angrily at the dufflebag at his feet on the stands and gestured at the shut-down court in front of them. “We are playing on a _soccer field,_ Neil. We could scrimmage against our entire team and still win. This is pathetic.”

Anyone else would have been annoyed by Samuel’s arrogance. Neil only narrowly avoided agreeing. Maybe they couldn’t take on _the whole team,_ but at least more than half of it.

By Court, Samuel meant playing for the US National Exy team. By Court he meant going to the Olympics and living in infamy. If Samuel was still Kevin Day, living at Evermore, a Raven, Neil had no doubt that he would already be Court. The Edgar Allen Ravens had never lost a game, and aside from Riko Moriyama, Kevin Day turned Samuel Josten was the best striker Neil had ever seen.

“At least we’re alive.” Neil said. “At least we still get to play at all.”

“It isn’t enough.”

He wanted it to be enough, but Neil knew it wasn’t. Not for either of them, but definitely not for Samuel. Things for Samuel were different than they were for Neil. Sure, Neil longed for the future a long-ago Kevin had once seen for them, but he liked being Neil Josten far more than he’d ever liked being Nathaniel Wesninski.

Samuel, however, still sometimes talked about what would have happened if he hadn’t left Evermore. Samuel Josten wished every day to be Kevin Day again. Sometimes, Neil was afraid Samuel would want it so bad he’d actually go back. They’d spent eight years together, had fought for their lives side by side, could find each other on an Exy court without calling out or looking up. But underneath the hair dye and colored contacts and the fake IDs, Neil knew that Samuel would always be Kevin Day.

And Kevin Day belonged on an Exy court. He was born for it. Kevin’s mother, Kaleigh Day, had invented the sport with Tetusji Moriyama. Before she’d died, she raised Kevin on it. She’d left Kevin with Tetsuji when she died, not knowing the horrors she was subjecting her only child to.

Tetsuji Moriyama was as cruel as Nathan Wesninski was murderous. He’d never formally adopted Kevin. Instead, he’d given Kevin to his nephew, Riko, and trained them side by side. The Ravens called him the Master, and he tolerated nothing less than perfection. His methods involved abuse beyond measure, a pair based system and complete devotion to the game.

If Samuel ever decide to return to Evermore, to become Kevin Day again, it wasn’t hard for Neil to picture that he’d be beaten within an inch of his life. If he survived and proved himself useful, maybe he would train with the Ravens again. Which meant Kevin would get to play NCCA Exy, would undoubtedly make it to Court. He would belong to Riko again, but Kevin would get the fame and recognition he deserved.

Even if he could settle for being Samuel Josten, he still had options. Neil felt it was pertinent to remind him of that.

“You could take the scholarship.” Neil pointed out. His words tasted like acid on his tongue. “Play for USC. It’s a stupid risk, but you’d get to play for a Class I team. At least for a little while.”

Samuel had received an offer weeks ago to fill an open Striker spot on the USC Trojans Exy team. A full ride. All expenses paid to play the game he loved more than anything. He’d been the only player on the Millport team visited by a scout.

Neil had been privately jealous, but only just so. Samuel, despite years of training Neil to work flawlessly side by side with him, would always be a better the better striker of the two of them. He was born and raised for it.

Neil’s little league experience as a backliner had made his transition into striker an awkward and difficult affair. Though he hadn’t played long before heading out on the run, it was still a challenge to learn an entirely new position. Neil was still a few steps behind, always pushing to match Samuel’s skill and not quite making the mark. He’d accepted the fact long ago that he would probably never be as good as Samuel, but he fought tooth and nail every day to earn his keep at Samuel’s side.

Though they hadn’t talked about it, Neil knew Samuel longed to take up the full ride USC offered. Samuel worshipped the Trojans with unrestrained admiration and devotion. The Trojans were everything the Ravens weren’t; everything Kevin Day wanted in a team. Samuel couldn’t be Kevin again if he played there, but at least he could play. At least he could make a new name for himself. Neil wasn’t sure what he would do without Samuel at his side, but he wouldn’t hold him back.

Samuel shook his head and looked at Neil for the first time during their conversation. His expression clearly said _you’re an idiot_. “I wouldn’t risk the exposure. Not without you.” Neil tried not to be too pleased with that remark. He depended on Samuel more than he ever wanted to let on, and the idea of going anywhere without him set Neil into a panic. “Millport works because we’re together. Because we can still look out for each other.”

Samuel slated Neil a stern look and pressed onward. “I would never go without you.”

Neil smiled slightly at that, relieved that despite his all-consuming love for Exy, that Kevin Day would still suffer through being Samuel Josten so as not to leave Neil alone. They were fiercely protective of each other, possessive at times, but Neil still appreciated the reassurance that his dependence wasn’t one-sided. He liked their identities; liked being Neil and Samuel Josten. They were brothers with or without the name, but Neil liked that now they fit together without question. He liked that the name tied them to each other.

He was about to reply, change the subject to tell Samuel they needed to figure out where they were going to sleep tonight, when the locker room door opened. Coach Hernandez leaned out, looking none-too-surprised to find them sitting there.

“Do you boys ever go home?” Hernandez asked. Neither one of them answered. They didn’t need to. Hernandez knew they answer; he only asked to cover his bases. “I didn’t see your parents tonight.”

“They’re out of town.” Neil lied.

“Still or again?”

Samuel cut in. “Does it really matter?”

Neither was the truth, but neither Samuel nor Neil was going to admit it. Their teachers and coach were tired of the same lame excuse, but they never pressed too hard. It was an easy enough story to believe; Neil and Samuel Josten were the children of absent and uninvolved parents. The added fact that they often broke into and slept in the locker room made it harder to spin with Hernandez, but he never asked about it. Instead, he turned a blind eye and pretended not to notice. Sometimes, he’d even leave it unlocked for them.

“I thought tonight might be different. I called them and left a message, but never heard back. You have a visitor I thought they might want to meet.”

Both Neil and Samuel’s heads snapped to attention at that. Simultaneously, their feet dug a little harder into the hard aluminum of the stands, bracing for flight. They didn’t get visitors. Anyone and everyone who knew them was either a) dead or b) wanted to kill them.

Neil met Samuel’s gaze, seeing the terror underneath his mask of calm. Which one of their pasts had caught up to them?

Neil and Samuel reached for their duffles at the same time. They each only had one; big enough to carry everything they owned. Samuel could ditch his if necessary, as it only contained clothes, but Neil never let his out of his sight. Tucked underneath the 8 plain outfits he owned was he and Samuel’s key to survival.

Upon first glance, it was just an obsessed Exy fan’s shrine to Riko Moriyama and the Ravens. Cutouts from newspapers and magazines riddled the pages, cut and taped to white printer paper, and tucked safely into plastic page protectors. It was more or less for two reasons. First, it allowed Neil and Samuel to make sure Riko wasn’t on their trail. Second, it held Neil’s mother’s contacts for obtaining fake identification, and the location of all the money remaining from what they’d stolen from his father. Everything he and Samuel needed to keep running and stay hidden was tucked between the Riko pages. Somewhere, there was even a coded page that contained his uncle Stuart’s phone number.

Hernandez stepped out of the way and both boys held their breath.

**Samuel:**

“I thought tonight might be different. I called them and left a message, but never heard back. You have a visitor I thought they might want to meet.”

When Hernandez stepped out of the way, Samuel leaned in closer to Neil, ready to body check the boy forward if they needed to run. They’d been stupid to stay in Millport for so long. Exy had been too tempting. Neil had been right before. Maybe Samuel should have been scaling it back more; maybe he’d drawn too much attention.

The man who stepped out from behind Hernandez was familiar; a broad figure with flamed tribal tattoos lining his arms and a tight white wife beater clinging to his frame. A manilla file was tucked under his arm. Samuel choked on his own breath.

“Shit.” Neil looked to Samuel instantly, carefully composed concern in his eyes. Samuel opened his mouth, trying to force out more words and couldn’t find them. He was feeling a rather sick explosion of panic in his chest.

Of course, Neil wouldn’t recognize him. Neil knew Exy but not the way Samuel did. The man standing before them would be familiar to Neil by name, but Samuel couldn’t bring himself to say it. All he managed was the sick croak of a single word, “Foxes.”

Snapping to attention, Neil stood and took a step forward; a thin barricade between Samuel and David Wymack. His voice was ice when he spoke.

“No one recruits from Millport. What the fuck do you want?”

Silently, Samuel was grateful for Neil’s quick and ferocious tongue. His heart had calmed minutely in his chest, but he wasn’t ready to speak. For now, he let Neil speak for both of them.

They knew the Palmetto State University Foxes reputation. Anyone who knew anything about NCCA Exy knew the Foxes were a train wreck and the laughing stock of Class I Exy. Disdain for the team burned in Samuel’s soul. He could barely even think to consider them a team; they’d never really played like one. Wymack’s rule of only selecting second-chance athletes meant they were all single minded and prone to infighting. The addition of their new defense line the previous season had raised their skill level and their standings significantly, but they were still the bottom of the barrel.

His disdain wasn’t the reason Samuel could barely breathe.

Looking at David Wymack was like looking straight into the past. His mother had personally taught Wymack Exy. He couldn’t look at him and still be Samuel Josten. Panic threatened to overtake him, but Neil – no, back then he had still been Nathaniel – had taught him long ago not to show any of that weakness in public. Still, he felt like his name must be tattooed on his forehead in bright, bold letters. Someone was going to scream it through the court’s loud speakers. _Kevin Day Kevin Day Kevin Day_.

Only Kevin Day hadn’t existed in a long time. He hadn’t died, the way Nathaniel had, because the Moriyama’s needed a body before they could claim that. It didn’t take long for people to notice the lack of Kevin trailing behind Riko trailing behind Tetsuji to every Raven game. When a reporter had finally asked where the second Prince of Exy had disappeared to, Tetsuji had destroyed any future Kevin Day might have had in a sentence. Kevin had been sent away to boarding school because he was not living up to expectations and had no place on an Exy court.

It had taken Mary weeks and a few hard blows to remind him that his Exy dreams were already dead. That future already destroyed. He’d given up being Kevin Day in favor of survival, and therefore he was not allowed to mourn.

“Apparently Southern California and South Carolina do.” Wymack didn’t look at all subdued by Neil’s harsh tone or scathing words. He glanced between the boys and quirked an interested brow. “You know who I am then?”

“We know who you are.” Neil said. “Now I’ll ask again. What the fuck do you want?”

“I sent him your files.” Hernandez butt in, shuffling uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “He’s short on his striker line and I figured it was worth a shot. That’s why I thought your parents might show up.”

He didn’t say what he was thinking, but it was written on his face. The mythical Josten parents hadn’t come to meet the recruit for Samuel from USC, which meant they certainly weren’t going to show for the half-disgraced coach from PSU.

Neil looked dumbfounded. “You did _what_?”

Hernandez was at a loss, clearly confused by Neil’s horrorstruck expression. “You – you fit the parameters and-”

Wymack cut him off easily. “Coach Hernandez, would you mind letting me speak with the boys alone for a moment?”

Samuel flashed him a pleading look, _don’t leave us alone with him_ , but Hernandez either didn’t catch it or chose not to acknowledge it. He flicked the boys one more contemplative, guilty look before giving a brief nod and disappearing inside.

Finally finding his voice and his footing, Samuel rose to his feet. He prayed his voice didn’t shake when he spoke. “Whatever it is you want, don’t waste your time.” To Neil he said, slightly quieter. “We need to go. Now.”

Neil nodded, leaning down and picking up both their duffles. He passed Samuel his own, and pushed him back slightly to head in the other direction off the bleachers and away from the court. Their body language was clear. This conversation was over.

Only Wymack wasn’t giving in so easily.

“I’d have thought you’d be more appreciative and excited about a scholarship offer from a Class I university.”

Samuel tensed as Neil turned. He waited patiently despite his nerves, knowing full well the boy beside him loved to have the last word. Under different circumstance, Samuel would have loved to have it too. The Josten brothers were notorious among the Dingos for their smart tongues and attitude problems.

“Samuel has a full ride waiting for him at USC.” Neil scoffed. Samuel could hear the incredulity in his voice. He could also hear the way the name Samuel didn’t seem to fit correctly in Neil’s mouth anymore. Looking at David Wymack and knowing what he’d been to Kaleigh Day meant Neil wanted to call him Kevin almost as badly as Samuel ached to be called it. “Why would he give that up to play for you and your laughing stock?”

“Because you’d get to play together.”

He swore he heard Neil’s heart stop and start again in time with his own. Samuel could die a thousand times and never hear a more perfect sentence. He and Neil, side by side on the court. Playing Class I Exy. He wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.

The universe was pulling a cruel joke. Offering them this gift knowing they couldn’t take it made Samuel sick. He would give up being Kevin Day forever if it meant he and Neil got to be Josten’s together on a real court; legends of Exy if just for a moment.

They were better than the Foxes. Even without having played on an honest to God court since they were children, Samuel knew that he and Neil would be better. The Foxes had talent, but they didn’t let the game consume them. Neil and Samuel were great strikers – _the best strikers_ – because nothing mattered to them more than the game. Nothing mattered more than moving in perfect synchrony on the court; their movements a symphony and their footsteps a map to fame.

Even still, the Foxes had promise. Samuel and Neil could build them into something amazing, given enough time. Samuel could taste victory in his mouth; hear the roar of a cheering crowd as he and Neil lead PSU from the bottom to a championship victory.

 _“At least we’re alive. At least we still get to play.”_ Neil had said.

Samuel thought about his response. _“It isn’t enough.”_

This was more than enough. Even just a moment on a real court again would be enough. Want was filling his entire body. Neil by his side. A real court. A real team. A chance to come alive again.

Underneath the mask that was Samuel Josten, what was left of Kevin Day thought it was probably worth dying for.

“You’d take us both?” Samuel’s voice was breath.

Wymack still managed to hear him. “Yes. I flew across the country with two contracts. I don’t intend to go back to South Carolina until both of them are signed.”

“Samuel.” Neil said, voice low. It was a warning.

Body quivering, Samuel met Neil’s gaze. In Neil’s eyes, he could see Neil was at war. His expression was accusatory; how could Samuel ask this of them? But his body was coiled tight with same beautifully terrifying questions Samuel couldn’t stop thinking.

What if they said yes?

Mary would beat them senseless for even thinking about it. Guilt, thick and sweltering, trickled into Samuel’s lungs whenever he thought of her. She’d protected him. He was not her own, but Mary Hatford had guarded him, had fought for him, had valued his life the way no one had before. No one except Nathaniel – Neil – and then she had died.

He would never admit it, but he let Neil light up his cigarettes because Samuel too was comforted by the smell of smoke that had been their last memory of her.

Would Mary understand, now that they were alone, if Neil and Samuel bargained the remainder of their survival to feel alive again?

No. Exy had meant nothing to Mary. Neil meant everything. She’d never been an affectionate woman, but Samuel had seen the ferocity of her love for Neil in the way she clutched him close against her to guard him from wandering eyes. He’d seen it the she sandwiched Neil between them on the same mattress; so as to always know where he was, even in sleep. Samuel had seen it most when he was still Kevin Day. When Neil had brought Kevin to Mary and told her Neil wouldn’t leave without him. Mary had been furious. But then she’d looked at Kevin, more specifically at the way Neil was looking at him, and nodded. That nod, the acceptance of the burden of another child to look out for simply because Neil wished it, was the most loving thing Kevin Day, Samuel Josten, all the 22 identities he’d ever filled, had ever seen.

There had been a silent vow between Mary and Kevin on the day she’d stolen two boys away from Castle Evermore. Neil would come first. His life above Mary’s. His life above Kevin’s. Always.

Risking Neil’s life for Exy went against everything Mary had ever asked for. It shattered that vow into a million and half pieces.

He hated himself, but Samuel thought it might be worth it.

“Tell me you don’t want it.” Samuel whispered, his voice so cracked it was sand whipping across dunes in the Sahara. Neil winced at the sound of it. “Tell me you don’t want to feel it again.”

“Feel what?”

“ _Alive_.”

Neil’s eyes widened. At the bottom of the bleachers, David Wymack stood stock still, waiting. His face was perfectly placid. He gave nothing away. Samuel couldn’t be sure whether or not Wymack had heard anything either one of them had said.

Samuel waited, too. His heart pounded a relentless beat in his chest, echoing through his ears and pulsing through his fingertips. In the end, he would let Neil decide. But Samuel couldn’t help himself from pressing just a bit further.

“It’s the closest we’ll ever get to Court.”

The effect of his words was instant. Neil’s eyes lit up with a spark. His expression said he and Samuel still had much to discuss, but it didn’t matter. Samuel already knew what Neil would choose.

After an eternity, Neil flicked his gaze back to Wymack. He said, voice still tense with mistrust, “Leave the contracts. We’ll call you with a decision in a few days.”

But it was already decided. They were going to play on a real NCCA court for the first time since they’d watched Neil’s father carve a man to pieces in the towers of Castle Evermore. The Foxhole Court was no comparison the Edgar Allen, but it was still a court. And it was a court without the Master at his back and Riko barking orders at his side.

Samuel didn’t know how he and Neil would make it work without exposing themselves. He didn’t know how long they could make it last.

He didn’t care.

They were going to be Foxes.

They were probably going to die.

Somewhere deep, Kevin Day whispered the truth. If anything was worth dying for, this was it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a side not, I know reading 'Samuel Josten' is going to throw you for a loop, but changing Kevin's name for a life on the run was a necessity. I promise you, writing it was a weird as reading it.  
> Hope everyone is digging this so far! A new chapter will be up by the 15th!


	3. BONUS CONTENT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which David, Dan, and Matt discover that Neil and Samuel are going to be a colossal pain in their asses.  
> Basically filler/fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you guys for all your comments and feedback! This story being so new, I really appreciate everything you guys have offered by means of encouragement and compliments.  
> Please keep commenting. I love hearing from everyone, and questions are more than welcome.  
> -  
> This is a 1.5 chapter because, originally, I wasn't going to post it. It goes off the beaten path of the strikers narrating, and gives some insight to how Wymack first sees them. It's just a fun little thing I thought I might share.  
> This isn't going to count as my update for the coming week, so everyone can still expect another chapter by the 12th!

**Wymack:**

David brought Matt and Dan along for backpack. He suspected he’d need it. The last time he’d tried to recruit family members, one of them had broken into his apartment and drank his favorite bottle of whiskey (he was still sour about that). He was hoping this time would be easier; that he’d get lucky. Which was a stupid thought. Foxes were never lucky.

He was beginning to think bringing Matt and Dan was a mistake. David had brought them on the disastrous trip to recruit the cousins, too. This trip was looking even less promising than that shit show had been. Maybe Dan and Matt were bad-luck charms; cosmically unlucky. That idea made him laugh. Of course they were unlucky. They were Foxes.

Two days had passed since he’d shown up unannounced at Millport High. The first twenty-four hours after he’d left the contracts behind had been miserable. Dan had asked if they’d called every twenty minutes. Matt had stared at the hotel phone like he could make the Josten’s call with sheer force of will. David had drank. A lot.

“Maybe we should just go home.” Matt had said, when they’d been staring at the phone for six hours with no results. He was hopped up on caffeine and ready to start picking off his own fingernails to satisfy his boredom. David refused to leave the hotel in case he missed their call. “You said so yourself, Coach, they basically told you to fuck off.”

David had opened his mouth to reply. Dan had cut him off immediately. “But they took the contracts! They’ll call. They have to call. We need them.”

Admiration flowed through him with that remark. He’d made a damn good choice picking Dan to be Captain. The thing was, they really did need the Jostens on their line. Samuel and Neil played flawlessly together; better than any pair David had ever seen. It was the effortlessness of so much time spent in near proximity that neither needed to look up to find the other on the court. They communicated without talking, passed without seeming need to aim, knew each other’s next move as if they’d rehearsed it a thousand times. Maybe they had.

Opening Hernandez’s files had been a stroke of luck. David had already had other strikers ready to sign. When one of them had been found half dead, he’d cursed the universe for always trying to fuck him over and started digging through all the shit suggestions that had sat unopened on his desk for weeks. Eighty percent of them made him want to hit something. When he’d first opened the Josten files, he’d scoffed. First year rookies? That had to be a joke.

Only it wasn’t. The Josten stats were impressive, but it wasn’t until he’d watched a tape of one of their games that he realized the extent of the gift that had landed on his desk.

Samuel and Neil Josten played like champions. Watching them play, David was _hungry_. Raw talent like that came for a coach once in a lifetime. All his Foxes were good. Matt was close to great. The Jostens were close to godlike.

They were rough around the edges; the way all Foxes were. Hernandez’s notes said they hated the team. Neil spoke to no one except during practice to swear. Samuel only opened his mouth to omit glorious sounds of disdain. They were arrogant, antisocial, and refused to communicate with anyone off the court unless they were screaming. They also seemed to avoid their parents like the plague and slept in Millport’s locker room.

David had presented their file to the team. Seth had laughed and offered a few choice words that indicated they were not welcome anywhere near his striker line. Allison had asked if David was going senile. Renee had said perhaps there were more options to be considered first, though not unkindly. Dan and Matt had asked if another batch of brothers on the court was a sound idea. Nicky had asked to bring them in simply for more eye candy on the court. Aaron had made a guttural sound of disgust. Andrew, surprising everyone, had asked what made the Jostens so remarkable. David had put on their game tapes.

They’d taken a vote. It was unanimous.

A week and a half later, he’d taken Dan and Matt with him to Millport. And they waited.

On the end of day two, Neil Josten had called. He and Samuel wanted to meet at Subway to discuss before they handed over their signed contracts. David had scowled deeply but agreed. He, Dan, and Matt had trailed the cousins to a Subway when they’d wanted to sign them. Coincidences made him distinctly annoyed. He wasn’t entirely sure why.

They met the Josten brothers at 8pm, when it was starting to get dark and the desert smelled like rain that hadn’t come yet. Aside from the employees, there was no one else at the restaurant. (Did Subway qualify as a restaurant?) Neil and Samuel were already seated at a booth, a receipt on the table but no food in sight. David suspected they’d been here awhile. He sent Dan and Matt to get their food and went to sit across from the brothers.

Neil followed Dan and Matt with his eyes, mouth pressing into a thin line of displeasure. He was not pleased to have gone uninformed of additional guests. Beside him, Samuel was sitting perfectly still and blank faced with eyes on David. It reminded him a little of Andrew, which was not a good sign.

No one could handle another Andrew. Least of all David. He was close enough to a stroke as it was.

Neither one of them spoke when he took his seat. It became a staring contest while they waited for Matt and Dan to make their way over. David didn’t want to be the first to speak. He knew troubled teens, well enough to know this was a test of will.

“Who knew Arizona could be so cold.” Matt murmured, sliding into the chair on David’s left. He was referring to the three icy stares he found at the table. Not one of the three acknowledged that he’d said anything.

Dan slid into the chair on his right. Without any preamble, she demanded, “So did you sign, or what?”

Samuel scoffed. David was beginning to think that was his favorite sound.

Neil fumed. “We didn’t invite you.”

Dan was unfazed. “I’m your captain. Better to learn to deal with me now rather than later.”

“You’re not our anything. We didn’t sign your damn contracts.”

David frowned. Dan scowled. Matt said, perplexed, “Why not?”

Samuel slanted Matt a cool gaze. “Because only one of us had a contract that indicated we’d be starting line.”

David frowned harder. He’d suspected this would be an issue. From everything Hernandez had told him, Neil and Samuel did everything together. _Everything_. He wouldn’t even had been surprised if they refused to go to the bathrooms alone. It reminded him a little of Andrew and Aaron, except he didn’t think Samuel and Neil needed a human buffer between them to keep from strangling each other. Samuel and Neil clearly liked being together. Andrew just liked keeping all of his things on a tight leash.

The problem was, there could only be two starting strikers. And it was Seth’s fifth year. His last year. Taking away his starting position would be about as fucked up a thing as David had ever done. Samuel was obviously the stronger player of the two brothers, though not by much. David could only give one of them a starting position. Trying to think up a solution on the spot was giving him a headache.

Neil’s next comment exploded his brain into a full-blown migraine.

“We both make starting line, or we don’t sign.”

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” Dan challenged.

“No.”

“You’re _freshman_.”

Neil radiated arrogance. “Actually, right now we’re high school seniors. And we’re still better players than anyone on your miserable team.”

Dan made a noise similar to what David imagined someone getting strangled with a live chicken might sound like. He noted that the noise made both brothers smirk. He catalogued that away and reminded himself to make sure neither of them was ever left alone with a reporter. Beside him, Matt was laughing. It was not a pleasant laugh.

“Another matching set of monsters. Fantastic.” Matt sounded a little tired and a little like he regretted ever watching the Jostens tapes. David knew the feeling. He was feeling particularly drained by the whole debacle. The problem was, now that they’d seen the tapes, they couldn’t not have them on the team.

“Are all twins assholes?” Matt flicked eyes between them and furrowed his brows. “Are you twins? Or did one of you get held back? I guess you aren’t really a _matching_ set. You don’t even look like you could be cousins.”

David noted with a small bit of pleasure that Matt was testing the waters of how worth it it would be to cut Seth from starting line. He was also glad Matt had asked if they were twins. The Jostens’ file had been incredibly unspecific and bare. And, Matt was right. Samuel and Neil looked nothing alike. Neil was pint-sized, though taller than the twins, and had a wiry body that resembled that of a track star. Samuel rivaled Matt in height, and was far broader. He also had sharp features that vaguely reminded David of a wild animal.

Samuel said, “Neil was adopted.”

At the same time, Neil offered, “Our mom got around. Did you know twins can have different dads?”

They both looked impossibly pleased with themselves.

There were a few moments of silence before Matt snorted, and Dan had to snicker. David could tell they wanted to be offended by the blatant sidestep to the question, but couldn’t manage it. They were Foxes, and Foxes were naturally secretive creatures. They understood it would be awhile before either boy opted to open up to them. They also appreciated sarcasm and quick wit.

“Okay.” David said suddenly, surprising everyone. Himself included.

“Okay?” Dan asked, clearly lost.

Neil and Samuel were smirking. David noticed they did that an awful lot. _Smug little bastards._ They understood the significance of David finally speaking.

“Neil and Samuel Josten, welcome to starting line for the Palmetto State Foxes.”

They shook hands. Dan grimaced deeply. Matt groaned and threw his head into his hands.

“Oh, Jesus Christ. Seth is going to be so pissed.”


	4. For the Love of the Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Josten's arrive at Palmetto State. Neil and Samuel scrimmage for the first time with some of the upperclassmen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I wanted to say an incredible thank you for all the amazing feedback I've been getting! You all are amazing and I am incredibly grateful for your support.  
> Keep leaving kudos and commenting (tell me your favorite lines/scenes, make predictions, tell me what you're hoping to see)! It's a great source of motivation for me.  
> Second of all, this chapter is (accidentally) rather lengthy and is basically just fluff. It's the last scene before all the Foxes arrive and you all get a taste of the Monsters. There is no crucial information in this chapter, except for the meaning behind the fic's title, so if you don't want to read feel free to skip it!

** Samuel: **

Samuel had decided the moment the plane had landed that he hated South Carolina. There was nothing outwardly wrong with it. The people were decently polite, the weather was a little muggy but bearable. Wymack had picked them up on time. If he’d been anyone else, he might have considered that South Carolina was nice, pleasant, amiable. But Samuel was not anyone else. And all he could think about South Carolina was that it was uncomfortably close to Baltimore and Evermore. Anything less than five states was too close, in Samuel’s opinion.

Being the smallest, Neil had been squashed into the middle seat of Wymack’s pick up. The  entire right side of his body was crushed against Samuel to leave a few inches of space between Neil and the older man. Samuel had tried to sit in the middle, knowing that despite Neil’s fiery attitude and poison tongue, that Neil had a deeply ingrained mistrust and fear of older men, but Wymack had scowled and insisted that didn’t make sense in a tone that didn’t leave room for argument.

Neil was buzzing. He could not, or would not, sit still. His face was carefully composed, as it always was, but Samuel knew Neil too well not to notice that Neil was in love with everything he laid his eyes on. Neil’s fingers were white knuckled on his kneecaps but twitching with unreleased energy, legs shaking just enough to be chafe thoroughly against Samuel’s thigh. The closer they were getting to Palmetto, the less contained Neil became.

The thing was that Samuel could tell that Neil didn’t want to love everything. He could tell by the subtle but consistent twitch of Neil’s fingers against his knee, by the downturn at the right corner of his mouth, by the broad expanse of cheek Neil had clamped between his teeth. Neil was trying desperately hard not to form any attachments, but his excitement was unrivaled by any memory Samuel had of him.

Samuel felt a little guilty watching the other boy. He’d been the one to convince them to come to Palmetto; the one who had wanted it so badly he’d decided over the course of a conversation that he would lay down his life for this opportunity.  He had been so certain this was the only choice to make. Now, Samuel was anything but sure.

Because, though Samuel still thought he would probably give up living to old age to just play Exy, with everything he had, for a few months, to make sure people remembered his name long after he was just a skeleton in the ground, he found himself unwilling to let Neil die for this game, too. Which was, of course, obnoxiously hypocritical.

They’d lived all the important years of their lives together. Exy meant just as much to Neil as it did to Samuel. A fact Samuel was both fiercely proud of and a little afraid of. When they were together, and Exy came into play, Samuel never knew what kind of stupid decisions they would make (Exhibit A: the Millport High Dingos, Exhibit B: the Palmetto State Foxes).

The deal they’d made back in Millport felt like a colossal mistake as Samuel watched the excitement brew brighter in Neil’s eyes with each curve they made onto Perimeter Road and the PSU campus came into full view.

Samuel remembered the ferocious pull at Neil’s mouth as he’d said, _“We won’t get to play a whole season. Even with our hair and eyes disguised, even with new names, someone might recognize us. As soon as there’s even a hint of a whisper on the wind that someone knows who we are, we leave. Understood?_ ”

 _“Of course, of course._ ” Samuel had promised. But he’d been glowing with the excitement of it. He’d quirked a brow and offered Neil a rare – the Josten brothers almost never smiled - but fierce grin. “ _For the love of the game?_ ”

That had brought an equally fierce grin to Neil’s face. A grin he almost never let capture his face; his father’s grin. Neil quoted the words back to him. “ _For the love of the game._ ”

It was a phrase Kevin Day and Nathaniel Wesninski had invented long before they’d buried their true names under false IDs and colored contacts and a different personality for every city they’d moved through.

‘For the love of the game’ was what they said before they went to sleep at night. When they woke up in the morning. When they’d run Raven drills on asphalt until red blossoms of blood had sprouted through their socks. It was how they’d assured each other the harsh blows Mary had dealt them when she’d discovered them practicing at night were worth it. It was what Samuel had said to comfort Neil after he’d been shot; what they’d said whenever either one of them stared a little too long at their scars in the mirror.

Between the two of them, those six words were an oath. It was a promise that no matter the scars riddling their bodies, no matter the psychological trauma neither of them would admit to, no matter if they were bleeding or broken or struggling for their last breath, that Exy was worth it.

It was startlingly unhealthy. Both of them knew it. Neither of them commented on it. Aside from each other, Exy was their world. It was the shining beacon of their attentions, affections, afflictions. Maybe it counted as an addiction. Whatever it was, it mattered far more than it should have.

It made Samuel magnificently nauseous to realize how stupid they’d become. _It is just a game,_ he tried to tell himself. But it wasn’t and never would be.

In the driver’s seat, Wymack kept flicking pleased glances at Neil. It was clear that he too and picked up on Neil’s excitement. Wymack was almost smiling. If Kevin was being honest, it looked more like he wanted to smile but his mouth didn’t remember how to shape such an emotion. The attempt in itself made him look a little like he had a Charlie Horse pulling at each cheek.

And so they were a trio. Neil buzzing, Wymack almost smiling, and Samuel trying not to puke.

This had been a remarkably stupid idea.

The significance of what they’d done had solidified in Samuel’s stomach with the weight of a tire iron when Neil said, “Can we go to the court first? I just – I need to see it.”

Samuel read into the tone of what that really meant. _I need to see it I need to smell the old, spilled soda in the stands I need to feel the cold court wall pressed against my face I need to find my locker and put on my gear **I need to play**_.

Despite the war in his mind and the guilt in his stomach, every muscle in Samuel’s body tensed with that same desire. If he could just see the court, just put hands on it for a moment, he’d know that this was worth it.

Wymack flicked them both a glance, unsurprised to find both boys watching him with barely contained lust. “I should take you to Abby’s first, and have you drop off your things.”

They’d made arrangements to stay with the team’s nurse until school officially started up again and they could move into the athletes’ dormitory. It had been Wymack’s idea. Hernandez’s mention of their staying frequently in the locker room had driven him to asking questions about the kindness of the Josten parents, and whether that was a safe home to return to until practices started. Samuel and Neil had answered none of his questions, nor had they so much as moved until Wymack had grown impatient. _“Just tell me whether I need to make arrangements for you to stay in South Carolina this summer or not_. _Is that better than staying here?_ ” Samuel and Neil had exchanged a brief glance before offering him simultaneous nods. And that had been that.

Now, Wymack watched them with studied interest as Neil gripped the strap to his duffle tighter. It was an involuntary reflex that Samuel cooled with a simple, “We’d like to see the court first.” He did not say please. It was not implied. His words, though polite, held a commanding tone.

Wymack’s nostrils flared briefly before he rolled his eyes in the fashion of grumpy old men and planted his foot on the gas a little more firmly. No one in the car spoke until the Foxhole Court rolled into view. “There isn’t anyone here to scrimmage with you. Dan and Matt will be back a week before the others. They want to make sure you’re prepared for what it means to be on this team.”

Samuel wasn’t really listening. The words came into his ears but the blood pounding through his body overpowered them. His heart hadn’t beat like this in years. The too fast, brutal thump in his chest was not the frenzied, uneven rhythm he was used to from their life on the run. With a jolt, Samuel realized he was feeling honest-to-god excitement and he was drunk on it. He could feel his eyes wide with wonder, his fingers enclosed on the door handle without his permission, ready to get closer. Wymack had left the truck running, uncertain what they would do once the court was in sight.

Samuel turned to Neil. He asked, “For the love of the game?”

 _Can we go in? Are we really doing this_?

“For the love of the game.”

Wymack furrowed his brows at their exchange, but turned off the truck when Samuel looked over Neil’s head at him.

“Let us in.”

 

** Neil **

Neil had never done drugs, but if they felt anywhere near as euphoric as practicing on the Foxhole Court every day did, he was starting to see how people could get addicted to them.

In all their years on the run, Neil and Samuel had never been through South Carolina. If they weren’t at Palmetto, Neil probably would have hated it. He missed the cool air, blurry skies, and endless green of the coastline of the Pacific Northwest. He’d loved Seattle, until the crunch of a metal pipe against bone, and had admired the view of the Oregon coastline before he and Samuel had realized his mother wasn’t going to make it far very past the California border. In another life, Neil might have liked living there, but he’d long forgone such wishful thinking.

The fact, however, remained that he was still Neil Josten and thus for the time being South Carolina was his residence. And, because he and Samuel were at Palmetto, Neil loved it.

It wasn’t that the campus was anything special. Though it was somewhat massive, Neil and Samuel had been through universities before and were thus unfazed by the size. Most of the buildings were older brick, giving them a weathered look Neil knew Samuel would approve of. Samuel had a curious attraction to anything that appeared as if it had its own history. The grounds were long and sprawling, which was nice enough when Neil disappeared from Abby’s for a run. Samuel joined him most afternoons, but he was less than pleasant to drag from bed in the mornings. Neil didn’t mind making the morning run down Perimeter Road by himself anyhow, so he usually left Samuel to wake angrily and down a few mugs of coffee before he returned.

It wasn’t that Abby’s house felt like home (nowhere ever did). Samuel seemed to enjoy it there more than Neil did, which was fine so long as he didn’t get overly attached. Abby wasn’t the greatest cook in the world, but each boy still reveled in the feel of a home cooked meal. Until their arrival in SC, neither of them could remember the last time they’d eaten something that wasn’t from a gas station or a deep fryer. They shared a room, even though Abby’s place had three bedrooms and they each could have had their own. Both Abby and Wymack had looked at them strangely when they’d refused to be separated, even by something as thin as drywall, but hadn’t argued. It had been harder to get Abby to not frown sadly whenever one of them flinched at her knock on the door, or shied away from her entry into the room. It made the arrangement more than a little awkward, but as the weeks had begun to add up she was slowly learning how not to set either of them off.

It was not the weather, which was still almost too hot for Neil’s taste but clearly appealed to Samuel’s. Admittedly, it was nice that his morning run was always greeted with clear blue skies and the warm, comforting smell of hot asphalt. Neil had a rather peculiar liking for the stale scent of it, along with the scent of freshly mowed grass around campus once a week when landscaping came through. All of that was pleasant. But it wasn’t why Neil loved South Carolina.

It wasn’t the University, or the student ID in his pocket, or the warm sun, or the soft mattress he fell asleep, albeit fitfully, on every night (though he and Samuel still sometimes slept in shifts, out of habit). It was not the comfort of Abby’s meals or the Exy magazines Wymack sometimes brought them. All of these things were agreeable surprises, but they were things Neil did not allow himself to get used to, and they therefore did not hold much weight.

What Neil loved about South Carolina was this: a locker only he knew the combination to, two jerseys with his name on it (looking at _Josten 10_ still gave him goosebumps), a racket he alone had ever touched, the squeak of shoes against the court floor, two sets of identical keys tossed carefully on the dresser at night.

Neil had lost the contents of his stomach shortly after Wymack had given he and Samuel matching sets of keys to the court. _“Only Dan has another set, so try not to break anything. Yourselves included. If you wear yourselves out before the season even starts, I will sign you up for marathon after marathon until you run your feet off to stumps at the ankles.”_

After Wymack’s comment, Samuel had quietly followed Neil into the locker room and stood outside one of the bathroom stalls like a sentry while Neil laughed. It was a near hysterical sound in the moment, brought on by Wymack’s accidental comment. The irony of it was unsurpassed by anything he’d ever heard before. When he’d finally stopped laughing, Neil had taken one look at the keys in his palm and vomited, muttering apologies to a dead mother who couldn’t hear him into the toilet bowl until he could pull himself together. Samuel had waited, and they’d changed into their gear together afterwards as if the event had never happened.

They spent the majority of their days on the Court or in the gym. After a few circuits on campus, Neil and Samuel would walk to the court together in silence. It had become a sort of tradition to go through to the inner ring before hitting the locker room, and lay on the cool, smooth surface of the court floor. Neither of them ever got tired of looking at it, despite the rather violent shade of orange surrounding them. You got almost used to the color, but it was still a little blinding at first glance.

Without anyone to scrimmage with, they mostly practiced Raven drills and took shots on the empty goal. Sometimes they would invent new drills or play one on one, but those were rare days. Sometimes, Wymack would come to watch. It had taken awhile to get used to the audience, but the coach never spoke or stayed for long. He seemed to understand that he could not remove either boy from The Foxhole Court even if he’d set the place ablaze and, so long as neither of them overworked themselves, he was content to let them stay there.

Neil and Samuel had found a rather easy and almost happy rhythm in their new routine. Consistency was something they both responded well to, but rarely had the opportunity for. And the pull of the court was a constant, breathless feeling both of them simultaneously feared and worshipped.

They had yet to talk about the inevitable leaving of this relative sanctuary. Neither of them was quite happy, because neither of them really knew the meaning of that word anymore, but they were calmer than they’d been in years. Somehow, the Jostens were even more driven and stabilized by court keys in their pockets and uniforms with matching names on the back. It was too good to be true. Too good to last. They both knew it but silently agreed not to speak of it. Instead, they took advantage of every free moment to practice. If they weren’t forced into a meal at Abby’s, or talking over the inevitable release of their photos and names to the NCCA and the press with Wymack, they were on the court.

A week before the athletes’ dormitory was scheduled to open and practices were to begin, Neil woke to find Abby preparing the room next door for more visitors. He’d stood in the doorway for a few long moments, watching her work in silence, before she’d noticed him. A pleased smiled spread across her face when he asked who was coming. It was rare that either Neil or Samuel initiated conversation, and Abby overflowed with warmth whenever one of them broke the habit.

“Oh, well Dan and Matt are coming a little early.” Abby said. Her eyebrows knit together in confusion at the downward pull to Neil’s mouth. “David is going to meet with them now… Dan, she wanted to see how you’re adjusting. Matt thought he would come along too and try to get to know you boys a little better, since you’re all going to be roommates soon.”

Neil read the truth behind Abby’s misguided attempt at deception. Dan and Matt wanted to see how he and Samuel’s attitudes had improved after a summer in Abby and Wymack’s company. They were evaluating the results of their risky investment to bump the unawares Seth Gordon from starting line. Thinking of Seth and the unavoidable confrontation to follow gave a little spark of ignition to Neil’s blood. He’d been stagnant for too long. With an internal sigh, he reminded himself that keeping a low profile was important, and he should keep his attitude in check. The thought was disappointing, but necessary. Neil’s frown deepened.

Abby misread the gesture and jumped in quickly. “They’re good people, Neil. You and Samuel – you’ll fit in well with them.” She sounded hesitant, like she wasn’t sure if the words were the truth or not.

Neil debated correcting her wrong assumption for a moment before deciding it wasn’t worth the effort. He peaked over his shoulder at Samuel, still fast asleep, and searched the room until his eyes found his duffle within Samuel’s easy reach. He still didn’t like leaving it behind when he went on his morning runs, but Samuel was there to watch it until they left for the court and Neil could hide it inside the relative security of his locker.

“I’m going for a run.” Neil said, and then left without looking back at her.

-

Wymack found Neil and Samuel sitting in the center of the court eating protein bars sometime a little after noon, the two anticipated upperclassmen in tow. Samuel didn’t even look up, trusting Neil to alert him of any threat, and too focused on fixing a loose string on his racket to care. Neil eyed the newcomers warily.

Danielle Wilds looked the same as she had when they’d met her in Millport, though with perhaps a few more shades of color to her skin from the sun. Her eyes kept flicking back and forth between the two strikers. Neil knew enough about her to see the calculating way she was sizing them up. As the Foxes captain, she had a right to analyze them so indiscreetly. For all the Foxes faults, Danielle had always been a fierce and unwavering captain, and Neil gave her credit for that where it was due. Considering the train wreck of a team she’d been given, Danielle had done an unexpectedly good job. She wore the same fierce, determined expression he and Samuel had seen in all her interviews, but he could see the uncertainty in her eyes.

Neil had been right this morning. Danielle was definitely sizing them up to see if they were worth the insane risk Wymack had taken. Neil knew that he and Samuel were, without a doubt, stronger players than Seth, but he didn’t open his mouth to reassure her unspoken concerns. Let her figure that out on the court.

Beside her, Matthew Boyd was grinning broadly. Unlike Danielle, the tall backliner looked excited to see Neil and Samuel already in gear and on the court. His hair was carefully sculpted into precarious spikes atop his head, the only change in his appearance that Neil could see. Faded track marks were clearly visible on his arms, sparking Neil’s interest. As a requirement, every member of the Palmetto State Foxes Exy team had a colorful history, but few wore that history so plainly and unflinchingly on their skin. Despite himself, Neil felt a flutter of jealousy in his stomach. He wished he had Matthew’s courage and circumstance to do the same.

“Samuel, Neil,” Wymack said by way of greeting, gruff as always. “You remember Dan and Matt, I’m sure.”

Neil made a mental note of the nicknames and nodded. Samuel didn’t look up from his racket, though he’d already fixed the loose string.

“We didn’t really get to introduce ourselves last time,” Matt stated cheerily. He extended a hand to Neil, having to crouch significantly to where Neil could reach it without standing from his seat. Neil shook it warily. “Matthew Boyd, backliner and future roommate.” He seemed pleased by the fact, but some of his enthusiasm died when he extended his hand to Samuel, who looked at it for a moment and sneered.

Dan was quick to come to his rescue. “Coach says you guys have been practicing all summer.” She didn’t introduce herself, rightly assuming Samuel and Neil would already know who she was.

Samuel lifted his head then, looking pointedly at the gear he was wearing and then up at Dan’s face, his eyebrows quirked in annoyance at the unnecessary comment. Like Neil, he had a cultured dislike for stating the obvious.

“Been here almost all day, every day.” Wymack grumbled. “They’ve been at it for a few hours by now, if they followed routine.”

“Every day?!” Matt exclaimed, incredulous.

Neil nodded.

Samuel rolled his eyes.

Dan scowled.

Wymack was stoic as ever.

Matt looked from one face to another, quickly evaluating that this situation was going downhill. Neil did nothing to tip the scales either way. He was analyzing too. “Well,” Matt said, looking like he’d just had an epiphany. “Dan and I already dropped our stuff off at Abby’s, and we’ve got some time to kill. Would you guys be up for a quick scrimmage?”

Samuel sat up straighter. Neil unconsciously reached for his racket. They exchanged a brief glance. There was a new thrill in Neil’s stomach, a twist of pleasant anxiety at a new challenge. That strange sense of euphoria was flooding his system again, and he could see the emotion reflected back at him in Samuel’s eyes. They’d been waiting weeks to hear those words.

“Get your gear.” Samuel commanded.

And the same time Neil asked, “How fast can you warm up?”

The tension that had been hanging thick in the air like the South Carolina humidity melted quickly into excitement. Exy, as always, was the perfect compress to ease Neil and Samuel’s tense muscles. Neil was already bristling with excitement.

Dan looked delighted by the sudden turn of events. She declared good-naturedly, “You’re going down, freshmen.”

Neil flicked a look at Samuel again. A mischievous look had taken over Samuel’s expression, the familiar glint of confidence in his eyes. Together, they barked out a laugh that startled the upperclassmen; Wymack barely raised a brow.

Hurriedly, Neil pushed himself to his feet. Every one of his muscles was on fire with anticipation. It had been months since he and Samuel had left Millport, and during their time in Arizona they’d gotten reacquainted with being against others. The promise of spontaneity in his plays was like a salve on burns he didn’t realize had been excruciating.

Samuel rose to his feet beside him, already securing his helmet in preparation. Underneath the wire mesh, Neil couldn’t see Samuel’s face, but he could still picture the ravenous smile that hung there. Dan and Matt didn’t know what they were asking for, and Samuel was drunk on their ignorance. Voice cool but confident he asked, “Wanna bet?”

It was like Samuel had said a magic word. Matt and Dan exchanged a quick look, excited more by the wager than the prospect of the game. “You’re on,” they said together and then turned quickly to head back toward the locker room to change.

Neil was already moving to pick up the stray cones and extra balls he and Samuel had left on the court. Samuel waited a beat longer before following him. By the time they’d stowed everything away in its rightful place, Dan and Matt were geared up and waiting at the entrance to the court. Wymack had migrated to the stands, but he was watching intently.

“Fifty buck wager?” Matt called as he and Dan took up their spots on the opposite side of the court. Samuel grunted an affirmation, flicking the ball lightly into the net of Matt’s waiting racket so they could get the game started.

Though Dan was traditionally the offensive dealer, paired against Neil she didn’t seem particularly concerned by the new arrangement. Neil was almost disappointed. He wanted her to play her hardest and make this a challenge. He hoped her neutral expression was simply a game face.

They were set up untraditionally, Neil and Samuel starting on the away side at the standard strikers starting spots. Dan and Matt took strikers spots on the home side of the court, seeming far away. Matt would have to put some power in his throw when he passed the ball off to start the game. Tense silence greeted them for a few moments, the only sound the pounding of blood in Neil’s ears.

When Matt flicked the ball forward, Neil was already moving. He’d taken half a second to calculate the angle of the throw and determine it was meant for Samuel’s net. Dan waited for him to cross the half-court line before tearing toward him. By then, he’d already heard the thunk of the ball into Samuel’s racket and counted the steady thunder as Samuel took one two three four five six steps.

He didn’t need to look to know Samuel would be hurling the ball his way. Neil could feel it. Pushing himself a little faster, he sidestepped around Dan, shocking her with his speed, and turned at the last moment to let the ball land securely in his racket. Five steps later, he flung the ball back to Samuel, who took ten before rebounding the ball off the court wall and into Neil’s waiting net. By the time the exchange had taken place, Dan was still three steps behind him, cursing under her breath at Neil’s speed. Two more steps and Neil swung. A heartbeat later, the ball hit dead center in the goal.

 _He was alive_.

“First to ten?” Dan called, loud enough for all of them to hear.

It wasn’t long enough. Neil wanted to play until he couldn’t hold his racket or stand on his feet any longer. But he would take what he could get.

It took Neil and Samuel twenty minutes to win the scrimmage, which was ten longer than Neil expected. Dan, though unskilled as a backliner, was significantly better on the offensive. She managed to snag three shots on goal, scoring each time, while Matt managed only one.

Matt was hell on defense. Samuel, barely winded by the exchange, stood with his hand folded across his racket and chin resting lightly on top of them, appraising him approvingly. Well, with as much approval as Samuel could muster. Neil was fiercely glad he’d never have to face Matt on the court for a real game. Matt had more skill in his little finger than the entire defense line of Millport had combined in the whole of their bodies. If any one of the Foxes was going to go pro someday, it would be him. Still, by the time Samuel landed the winning goal, Matt was collapsing to the floor, breathing heavily but grinning so broadly Neil thought it might split his face open.

“Holy shit.” Matt’s words came out as a laugh. “That was incredible.”

Samuel, looking bored now that they’d finished the scrimmage, pointed his racket at Matt. “You owe me fifty bucks.” His tone was bland, and he didn’t wait for an answer before stalking off to the locker room to change.

Matt snorted out a laugh; almost annoyed, but curious as well. Sitting up on his elbows, he glanced at Neil. “Real friendly, that one.” His sarcasm was palpable.

Neil shrugged. ‘Friendly’ was not a word anyone had ever used to describe the Jostens. Forming attachments made you careless and, for people like them, being careless got you killed. It wasn’t like that was something he could explain to Matt, however. It was better Neil let Matt think that he and Samuel were rude and standoffish; in a way that were true anyways.

Turning to Dan, Neil took off his helmet and cocked an eyebrow at her. A silent question.

Dan was beaming. There was an expression on her face Neil couldn’t place; one he wasn’t familiar with. “You two,” she breathed, sounding wistful, “are going to change everything. We could make it to death matches, easy. This is going to be our best year yet.”

Neil felt a subtle pang in his chest. He wished that were true, more than anything. But he knew that the predication was unlikely. If he and Samuel picked four leaf clovers and made human sacrifices every day to appease the gods, they’d still be lucky if they got to play through the regular season. In all likelihood, they’d have to run before then. Neil was not foolish enough to hope for a full year. He was familiar with disappointment, and refused to inflict it upon himself.

He found himself angered by the unfairness of it. Of course, he had never expected to be able to stay long, but their brief scrimmage had awakened a longing in him more significant than any he could recall. Neil wondered if, in the locker room, Samuel was wallowing in the same feeling of self-pity. They’d run for so long, lost so much. Didn’t they deserve this chance to be something?

 _What we have with the foxes, while we have it, will have to be enough_ , Neil told himself, but he knew that it wasn’t.

He couldn’t imagine how much worse this would feel once everyone else arrived. When practices began in earnest, when they played their first game of the season, Neil was sure that something inside of him would snap. Samuel had convinced them that this risk was worth it, that Palmetto for a short while was better than nothing, but Neil had a sick sense of dread weighing heavy in his gut.

They loved Exy with too much of themselves not to let it overpower them. He and Samuel were as hopelessly entwined with the game as they were with each other. The longer they stayed, the more attached they would grow to this place and this court and the potential of this team, and the more danger they’d be in. Neil wasn’t sure that danger factor would matter.

Now that he’d had this brief taste, Neil wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to let it go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!  
> Looking for something else to read? Check out my Jerejean fic, [And Then there was Light](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10894146/chapters/24214113)!  
> From now on I'll be posting a new chapter every Friday, so Chapter 4 will be up on the 19th. If you guy's enjoyed the bonus chapter I posted earlier this week in Wymack's POV, let me know, and we can work in more extra content.


	5. In the Fox Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the Foxes arrive at Palmetto State.  
> Enter the Monsters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before everyone gets to reading, I just wanted to give a special shoutout to CrimsonMoonn who has a birthday today (at least still in my timezone). Thank you so much for your commentary on the last chapter doll, it made my day. Happy Birthday!  
> Also, I wanted to say thank you to everyone who has been commenting and leaving kudos! Having over 100 Kudos on my first fic on AO3 was an amazing feeling. You're all wonderful.

** Neil: **

The evening before the rest of the Foxes were scheduled to arrive, Matt and Dan cornered Samuel and Neil after dinner. They came into the Josten’s room without permission, making Samuel bristle and Neil still to the core (Neil and Samuel never liked having anyone between them and the door). Neil took a cautious, hopefully inconspicuous sidestep towards the window. He liked Dan and Matt okay, Matt especially, but they were still strangers and Neil only trusted one person still living on this planet.

Matt plopped himself on the floor, leaning against the doorway heavily. He looked more tired than he had five minutes ago in the kitchen. As if he’d aged five years on his fifteen foot walk down the hallway to the boy’s room. When Neil flicked his eyes to Dan, who was settling down next to the hulking backliner, he noticed she wore a similar expression.

“What is this about?” Neil asked uneasily.

Neither he nor Samuel made any move to sit down. Both boys looked akin to cornered animals, eyes cautious but half wild with fear. Neil noticed Dan register the emotion, but thankfully she didn’t comment on it.

“We just wanted to talk to you both.” Dan said.

Matt finished for her. “About what it’s going to be like tomorrow, when everyone is here.”

Samuel visibly relaxed at that, which made Neil relax as well. They both moved slowly and sank onto their beds. Neil debated moving to the floor to be eye level with Dan and Matt, but hurriedly decided against it. If anything were to go wrong, he wanted to spring to his feet as quickly as possible.

Samuel made a hand motion for the upperclassmen to keep talking. They’d kept up their ruse of silence, Neil only breaking it to amend Dan or Matt’s form during a scrimmage and Samuel only to bark out a particularly vicious comment or thank Abby for cooking, but Neil knew Samuel wanted to ask a million questions about the rest of the team. They’d gotten into a rhythm with Dan and Matt, albeit one that still needed quite a bit of work, and Neil knew Samuel was anxious to see how the rest of the team would fit into the mix.

The upperclassmen were more easily predictable; all of them had spent a significant amount of time in the news or doing interviews. They were all good players, but that wasn’t what Neil knew Samuel would be looking for. Samuel wanted people he could mold, who would listen to him even though he was a freshman and wasn’t the team’s captain. Neil didn’t care so much about being highly respected, so long as he was highly valued on the court. He wanted to win games, he wanted to be a champion. Samuel could make that happen for all of them if they let him.

Concern arose with the newer Foxes, not counting Samuel and himself, and Neil had a sneaking suspicion that’s where their conversation was headed.

“Renee will love you. Renee loves everyone.” Matt began, and Neil noticed Dan smile slightly at the name he recognized as belonging to the more senior goalkeeper. “So you guys don’t even need to worry about her. Allison will take some time to warm up to you. She’s a little jagged around the edges, but she’s pretty much harmless.”

“Are they good?” Samuel interjected.

“Why would they be on the team if they weren’t?” Dan said, aghast.

Neil and Samuel raised matching sets of eyebrows. Dan grimaced.

“Yes, they’re good. Everyone on my team is good. The four of us, me, Matt, and the girls, we’re all glad you’re here. And everyone voted for you. Our decision to add you both to the line-up was unanimous, and that’s only happened once before. But,” Dan chewed on her lip nervously. She had a calculating face Neil liked; Dan was always thinking about the team and how to make them better, and not just on the court, “that was before we decided to make you both starting line, which means-”

“Seth is going to want you both dead.” Matt sounded tired.

Without meaning to, Neil let out a snort. All eyes in the room turned on him, Dan and Matt shocked, Samuel pleasantly surprised. So many people wanted them dead that at this point in Neil’s life, tacking another name to the list felt akin to adding another piece of fine art to an esteemed collection. “He won’t be the first or the last.”

Samuel nodded approvingly at Neil’s answer. “We’ve dealt with worse.” He affirmed quickly. “Leave him to us on the court and your Seth Gordon won’t be a problem.”

Neil was sure what Samuel was saying was an understatement, Seth would most definitely be a problem. However, they weren’t particularly phased by the idea of an angry upperclassmen with a superiority complex. They were better at Exy that Seth was, and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he and Samuel definitely wanted it more. Their lives were hanging by a thread for this game, and once you’d had as many near-death experiences as the Josten brothers, you stopped being afraid of people who weren’t armed.

Either way, he wasn’t exactly thinking about Seth at the moment. Something else Dan had said had caught Neil’s attention.

“Who else was it?” Neil pondered. “That got the unanimous vote?”

Matt’s face darkened significantly. “That would be the monsters.”

“Monsters?” Samuel echoed, sounding intrigued.

“That’s what we call the cousins. Andrew, Aaron, and Nicky.” Dan let out a deep sigh. She looked troubled, and she was chewing at her lip again. “They’re um – they’re sort of why we wanted to talk to you.”

“Because of the crazy one?” Neil interjected.

Everyone knew about Andrew Minyard. The young goalkeeper had a startling reputation, with plenty of red in his ledger. He was smaller than Neil, which was a feat in its own right since Neil didn’t even stand 5’5”, but with a reputation for a manic, violent streak. Neil had read more than one article about Andrew in which the words _danger to society_ had been used. Two years earlier, his cousin, Nicholas Hemmick, had been attacked outside of a nightclub where he worked. Andrew had intervened, which would have been fine, had he not beaten the attackers within inches of their lives. He’d been prescribed a rather controversial medication during his trial, a mandatory three-year sentence to be high off his ass. No one knew if they were antipsychotics or mood stabilizers or something else entirely, but rumors had started flowing freely among the Exy fan base when Andrew had signed his contract to Palmetto State.

Neil knew little about the other cousins. Aaron was Andrew’s twin brother, significantly less manic but equally as strange. Nicky was their cousin and guardian. Both were backliners. And that was where Neil’s knowledge ended.

“Andrew.” Samuel said simply. It was the answer to the unasked question in the room. “The vote was unanimous because of him, but he was also the reason Wymack needed you to vote in the first place.”

“Yes.” Dan said. She was clearly pleased that Samuel had put the pieces together so quickly. “Andrew is talented, but he’s apathetic at best. When Coach can convince him to really play, he’s the best goalkeeper I’ve ever seen. But he doesn’t really care about the game. I think he’s too high to process it.”

“Doesn’t care?!” Neil and Samuel echoed the words simultaneously. It would have been easier to get one of them to recite the first seventy-five digits of pi than to ask them to comprehend someone having any sort of apathy to Exy.

Matt managed a laugh at their reactions, to which Samuel scowled deeply. Though they’d already spent a week in each other’s company, Matt still found Samuel and Neil’s Exy addiction impossibly amusing. It was a hard concept for Neil to grasp. Dan played fiercly, but he could tell just by her stance and the way she talked that she didn’t see or want a professional future in the sport. Maybe she would coach someday, but she wouldn’t play once she graduated. Matt was different.

Neil had known from that first scrimmage that Matt wanted Exy. Maybe not to the extent that Neil and Samuel did, because he’d obviously made room in his life for other things, but he wanted it none the less. Matt carefully watched the way Neil and Samuel held their racquets during practice, adjusted his grip to follow their leads, and copied their footwork. He wasn’t obvious about it, but he was always trying to improve. And he was _good_. Not just good enough to be a Fox, but good enough to make it to Pros, and probably to Court. With a drive like that, Neil had difficulty understanding why Matt didn’t just dive all the way in and make Exy everything.

“Figured you guys would get a kick out of that.” Matt said, his laughter subsiding. “But that’s not the point. We can get Andrew to play, at least with a little more focus, but it costs us.”

Samuel narrowed his eyes to slits and flicked his eyes to Neil. “Costs you how?”

“How much do you know about Andrew’s history and his medication?” Dan questioned.

Neil said, “Enough.”

“Look, don’t freak out about this, okay? We’ve all voted already, aside from you two, but now that you’re on the team we can’t exactly keep it from you for long. But you’ve got to keep it quiet. Only the team knows, and Coach. Abby and Betsy aren’t in on it; they can’t be.” Dan looked at Matt pleadingly, as if he might have a better option than spilling what was clearly a well-kept secret. Matt only shrugged apologetically. Neil sympathized; nothing made giving up your secrets any easier. “Coach made a deal with Andrew when he signed him, that Andrew could come off his meds on game nights and play sober.”

Neil’s eyes widened. It sounded like a perfectly horrible idea. A medicated psychopath was one thing, a sober one with a racquet that could shatter bones was another. Before he could comment on it, Samuel interrupted Neil’s shock and the upperclassmen’s uneasy silence.

“Good. Coach did the right thing.”

Startled, Neil flicked Samuel a harsh look. They exchanged a silent conversation. Neil said _how could you possibly think that that’s a good idea_. Samuel shrugged, _all I care about is how he plays. If he’s better sober, then I say let him be. We’re more likely to win if our goalkeeper gives a damn. And I know you don’t want to lose._ Neil let out a frustrated sigh. The entirety of their silent conversation had lasted only a minute, but he noted idly that Dan and Matt were watching him with increased interest.

“Consider your vote officially unanimous.” Neil grumbled, rubbing a palm over his face in defeat. Samuel was right. Neil didn’t want to lose, and he could hold his own against a pint-sized psychopath if he needed to. “Whatever it takes to win.”

Matt looked at Dan and raised his arms in a surprised gesture of accomplishment. “Awesome.” He said, sounding both dubious and pleased. “Tomorrow should be a hoot, then.”

“He _won’t_ be sober tomorrow.” Dan interjected quickly. She was still looking anxious. Neil didn’t entirely blame her. “But a drugged Andrew is well… You’ll see.”

“What about the other two?” Neil queried.

“You’ll be lucky if Aaron says two words to you all year. And Nicky is harmless on his own.” Matt was smiling broadly, like he was in on a secret. It made Neil particularly uneasy. He flashed Samuel a look and was grateful to see the same caution in the other boy’s eyes. “Andrew is definitely the ringleader, but the three of them in combination are something to watch out for.”

Neil could tell if Matt meant on the court or in general. He debated asking, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort. He was going to find out either way, and the length of this conversation had already exhausted him.

Giving Samuel a silent signal, Neil reached for the running shoes next to him bed. Samuel watched him briefly before turning back to the waiting upperclassmen. “Is that all?”

Startled, Dan said, “I mean – yes. If you two are cool with it and you think you’re prepared for tomorrow… That’s all we wanted to talk about.”

“Great.” Samuel said, and rose to his feet in a way that clearly stated the conversation was over. “Then get out of our room.”

 

-

 

Neil lay awake for what seemed an endless path of time that night, long after they’d gone to the court for an evening practice and taken there nightly run, and Samuel’s breathing had slowed and deepened. It was an odd habit of Neil’s, to grow more watchful when Samuel was vulnerable. Odd might not have been the right word, but math had always made more sense to Neil than language. Logic told him that after as many weeks as they’d spent at Abby’s, Neil didn’t need to be awake when Samuel was asleep. They were the closest to safe as they’d ever been.

But something about meeting the rest of the Foxes tomorrow was filling Neil was unrivaled anxiety, and when Neil was anxious, he got paranoid. If Samuel could sleep peacefully, Neil would keep a watchful eye. Besides, he didn’t think he could stop his mind from churning in turmoil over the prospect of more Foxes.

He couldn’t decide how he was supposed to act around them. Dan and Matt were the kind of people that, if he were allowed, Neil would have liked to be friends with in another life. He liked them, and they seemed to like him. Which was where the problem grew.

None of the Foxes were supposed to attach themselves to he and Samuel. They’d been careful with the two upperclassmen, speaking little and letting the tendrils of their rather pointed attitudes show through. A snappy or cruel remark usually went a long way for the Jostens. However, Dan and Matt seemed unfazed.

It had only been a week. Neil prayed he was reading into things wrong, though he usually had a very good read on people. Those comments meant to keep Dan and Matt at a distance seemed only to fuel Dan’s determination; she weaseled her way close to the brothers more and more every day. And Matt was simply too good-natured to care. Whatever was being said, it wasn’t enough to rattle him. Neil would have to find a better way to keep them both at bay.

]The thought tickled him in a strange way. He thought perhaps he wanted Dan and Matt to like him. He wanted their approval, at the very least. But Neil could not allow himself to want such niceties. He didn’t believe in them anyhow.

Neil did not believe in friendship or love or happy endings or bearing your soul. He believed in the aftermath of guns and knives and fists. He believed in the power of one’s self; the will to survive. He believed in the bond he’d formed with Samuel, made deeper by the sharing of spilled blood and nightmares and mutual terror (the Foxes could never hope to forge something so strong with the Jostens; not unless Neil wanted to get one of them killed). He believed in Exy, of all things. Those would have to be enough to sustain him. Attaching himself to people just made things messy.

When the alarm clock glowing red on their shared dresser showed it was 2:45 in the morning, Neil decided it was time to make an attempt at sleep. Using an old tactic to calm his frayed nerves, he counted as high as he could in every language he knew. Neil was near-fluent in four languages, but he still nearly ran out of numbers before he managed to find sleep.

 

** Samuel: **

Foxes were rather curious creatures.

Gathered in the foyer of the Foxhole Court, Samuel watched the remaining six Foxes trickle in.  The seating arrangement was a little strange. Two small couches sat opposite each other, with two chairs between them to make a U, and one stray chair sitting beside the couch closest to the men’s locker room. Samuel and Neil picked the two chairs in the middle, preferring to see everyone clearly and be as close to the exit as they could get.

It took the better part of an hour for the room to fill beyond just Neil and Samuel. Wymack was conspicuously absent from the occasion, but Samuel could hear him talking gruffly and shuffling papers in his office. Abby’s door was open, and she seemed caught in as much restless anticipation as Samuel was.

Renee Walker was first, flanked by Dan and Matt, who had retrieved her from the airport. She was interesting to look at, petite features once outside of bulky goalkeeper’s gear, and blonde rare with a pastel rainbow ringing the tips. She smiled brightly and introduced herself with the kindest smile Samuel had ever seen, apart from Abby’s, but he noticed with some surprise that she didn’t move to shake his or Neil’s hand. Neil didn’t speak to her at all, which Samuel wouldn’t have thought was strange, except for the way Neil edged farther into his seat when Renee sat down at the edge of the couch closest to him. Dan sat next to her, and Matt followed quickly. There was something easy and companionable about the way they all seemed to fit together. Samuel made a mental note to ask Neil what it was about the girl that made him so uncomfortable. She seemed perfectly bearable to Samuel; more so than Dan or Matt who were too often trying to force him to talk, and rarely willing to talk about Exy. Renee was quiet and pleasant, with a hint of an edge that warned him she would hold her own. Samuel approved.

Allison Reynolds and Seth Gordon followed shortly after, arriving in a spectacular tornado of sexual tension and unrequited rage. Seth had paused in the opening of the foyer to glower at the two new strikers. Allison, in turn, had place a contemptuous and self-satisfied smile on her face and perched herself on the edge of Samuel’s chair. He stiffened for a moment before letting himself relax.

“Well aren’t you two going to bundles of fun,” Allison remarked with forced cheer. She still sounded cold. Samuel briefly wondered if she was being sarcastic before remembering he didn’t care. “Practice is going to be a peach today.”

“Allison.” Renee said, a smile on her face. She still looked kind, but it was clearly a warning. Allison sighed dramatically and shrugged, leaning heavily into Samuel’s side.

He wanted to push her off. She was decked to the nines, something Matt had warned him to always expect, Allison didn’t go anywhere unless she was primed as a princess, and smelled like those ridiculously sweet perfumes girls had always been spritzing themselves with in Millport when Samuel walked past. Neil chuckled lightly when he noticed Samuel’s sneer of disapproval.

Samuel preferred more subtle scents, sandalwood and fresh mint, maybe rose water if it was light enough, but he’d never admitted that to anyone before. Samuel liked understated things, things with a little bit of age and weather to them. He preferred things that looked as if they’d been loved long before he came along to ruin them. Allison looked shiny and new, and he had a feeling she had a habit of leaving disaster in her wake. She was a ruiner in her own right, Samuel thought, and Seth’s intense glower was only confirming it.

Allison didn’t introduce herself, and neither did either Josten brother of Seth. They let Dan introduce them, and stony silence fell soon afterward.

“Okay, so,” Dan started, clearly trying to fill the void in the room with something other than animosity, “we’re just waiting on the monsters then-”

Seth interrupted her before she could finish her sentence. He pointed a massive finger at Neil, who only raised a cool eyebrow in response. “ _That_ ,” He growled, “is taking my spot on starting line? This is unbelievable.”

Dan and Matt stiffened visibly. A noise of delight slipped past Allison’s mouth. It was annoying loud in Samuel’s ear. He debated pushing her off, her proximity was making him rather nauseous, but he kept his eyes trained on the Foxes only fifth year senior instead. Neither Renee or Neil had reacted, and the lack of fear on the latter’s face seemed to be sending Seth into a rage.

“What, haven’t got anything to say for yourself? Fucking figures. Just another faggot. You’ll fit right in with the monsters.”

Samuel bristled, ready to come to Neil’s defense, but help himself still. Neil hadn’t responded with anything more than an amused raise of a brow, and he was perfectly capable of holding his own. Still, Samuel decided in that moment that he quite loathed Seth Gordon.

The last remaining member of the original Foxes Exy team was a hulking mass of a man. If Neil and Samuel had attitude problems, Seth took the phrase and multiplied it tenfold. He was all long limbs and seething rage. His steely glare did little to phase either Josten, though the vein protruding from the side of his neck looked laughably hilarious. Samuel refrained. He was doing a lot of holding back these days.

Several minutes of tense silence followed as Neil and Seth stared each other down. Finally, Neil shrugged. “Any problem you have with me can be settled on the court. I imagine no one else will mourn your demotion, so you might as well get it out of your system.”

Dan sucked in a harsh breath of disbelief and Allison laughed pointedly. Samuel smiled privately to himself. Neil as always civil in his discourse, but it didn’t make his words any less lethal.

Seth was on his feet in an instant, his fingers curling into white-knuckled fists. Neil and Samuel were quick to follow. Samuel silently thanked the gods for giving him the perfect excuse to put a foot of distance between himself and Allison.

“How about we settle it right now when I kick your ass?”

 Neil flicked Samuel a look. Both boys grinned wickedly. Low profile to hell. Samuel was aching to hit something.

Seth took five steps forward and swung wildly at Neil’s head. Neil ducked, and Samuel pivoted to land a solid kick to the back of Seth’s knees. The upperclassmen crumpled with a surprised grunt. Out of the corner of his eyes, Samuel noticed Matt rising to his feet and raised his hand to signal him off.

Seth rolled over and propped himself up. His eyes met Samuel’s, twin black pools of wrath that might have frightened Samuel in another laugh, and he spit out with venom, “I will fucking kill you, Josten.”

The rest of the upperclassmen had risen warily to their feet. A brief glance around the room told Samuel they’d expected something like this to happen, but he stowed his satisfaction at their looks of surprise. Clearly Samuel braced for a fight as Seth started to rise, but Neil was between them rather suddenly. His speed and fearless, ferocious expression stilled Seth midway to full height.

“If you _ever_ move to touch him again, you will cease to have hands.”

A new voice rang out through the room, and Samuel noticed more than one upperclassman flinch.

“No one waited for me before the fun started? I’m hurt.”

A low growl of disdain erupted from Seth’s throat, and, strikers not forgotten, he trumped back to his seat with a new set of tension to his shoulders. All the remaining upperclassmen apart from Renee sat quietly. None of them looked pleased.

Samuel turned to investigate the source as Renee called out to the newcomer. “Hello Andrew.”

The aforementioned Monsters were not what Samuel had expected. Of course, he’d seen photos and interviews, everyone had, but in the flesh, the cousins were a strange thing to behold.  Nicholas Hemmick looked more like a bartender than a backliner. He had the pleasant face of someone who smiled often, but little folds between his brows as if he’d spent an equal amount of time worrying. Standing behind Andrew’s left shoulder, he was smiling excitedly, but there was tension in the set of his shoulders that made Samuel wary.

Andrew and Aaron Minyard were not as inviting. It was easy to tell them apart, despite near identical outfits. Aaron’s face was impassive and uncaring, while Andrew’s was cut in half by a knife blade smile. Samuel tried not to let it remind him of Neil’s smile when he was in a particularly wicked mood. Anything similar to the butcher’s smile made Samuel a little queasy, and he had the feeling Andrew and Nathan Wesninski had more in common than a cruel grin.

“Hi Renee,” Andrew called gleefully. He bounced to his seat like a kid on a pogo stick, Aaron and Nicky trailing behind him. Nicky looked excited no one had gotten punched yet. Aaron just looked bored with being alive. When they’d all settled onto the open couch (the seating arrangement with the upperclassmen made more sense now; they’d left it open for the cousins of purpose), Nicky in the middle, he continued. “Don’t stop on my account. This was just getting interesting.”

“Andrew.” Nicky said, appalled but unsurprised. He flicked Aaron a pleading look, but Aaron only shrugged.

Samuel made the executive analyzation that Aaron was the least likely person in this room to piss him off today. He quite liked that Aaron seemed neither bothered nor impressed by the display they’d stumbled in on. It meant he’d had no expectations. It also meant he probably wouldn’t try to talk to Samuel, which seemed to be a win win for both of them.

Wymack and Abby appeared in their doorways at the same time, an almost rehearsed move. The upperclassmen, save for Seth, instantly lifted their spirits. Samuel went back to his seat once Allison was no longer using it as a perch and watched with interest.

Everyone hugged Abby. Even Seth, who still looked like he’d rather murder someone, offered her what probably passed for a kind smile in the Gordon family and slung an arm around her shoulders for a moment. They were all genuinely happy to see her. Trading polite snippets about how they’d spent their summer vacations and asking personal questions seemed to be quite the norm. Samuel found it discombobulating to say the least. Mary had always been a presence, but neither he nor Neil had ever been hugged or coddled by her. Seeing an older woman so clearly adored by so many young face was hard to compute.

Their coach watched with a somewhat pleasant expression, shaking hands with everyone and offering Dan a quick hug. Samuel lifted an eyebrow at that blatant show of favoritism but said nothing.

Eventually, they made their way back to their seats. Abby drifted toward her office, but the door remained open. Wymack stood in front of them with a rather accusing look, but Samuel noticed it stayed on Andrew the longest. “Did we get all that out of our system or should I have Matt grad some gloves?”

Matt let out a pleasant laugh. “Nah, Coach, I think we’re done.”

“I’m not fucking done.”

This, of course, came from Seth. He was glowering at Neil again.

Neil sighed loudly and leaned back in his chair. It was clear from his posture that he didn’t find Seth to be a viable threat, and Samuel knew he was aching to be on the court. Being in the stadium without being in the inner ring set them both a little on edge. Neil wanted to find his gear and grab his racket as badly as Samuel did. He could practically feel the other boy’s anticipation radiating off of him.

“Seth.” Wymack said. His voice was level, but it still sounded like a sigh.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Seth’s voice was rising with every note. “His racket is bigger than he is. He shouldn’t be starting line. And he’s an amateur. He shouldn’t even be on the court.”

“I’m not sure this is the best place to settle this debate. In fact, I’m not sure how to settle it at all just yet.”

“We all voted for him.” Dan pointed out.

“You were sulking then to.” Allison laughed.

“I do.” Samuel interrupted. In the corner of his eyes, he saw Neil’s light up and lean forward. They were thinking the same thing. “I know how to settle the debate.”

“Is anyone going to get punched?” Wymack asked, sounding skeptical but not like the option was out of the question.

Andrew laughed delightedly. “Oh, I like the sound of that. What a great game. Can I play?”

Samuel ignored him. “No one gets punched, but I can’t promise a lack of physical damage.” Wymack raised an eyebrow. They were all doing an awful lot of that today. “We play. One on ones. Neil vs Seth. Me vs Seth. Or you can substitute in another striker. Open goals. Backliners on court. Whoever racks up the least points forfeits starting line.”

Nicky furrowed his brows in confusion. “But I thought Neil already signed a contract for starting line?”

Neil rose from his seat. “If I lose than write me a new one.” He said simply, grabbing his duffle from where it sat between his legs. “If I haven’t earned that contract than I don’t want it.”

There was silence for a moment. Aaron still looked bored, but he was casting considering glances between Neil and Samuel like he was trying to solve a riddle. The upperclassmen were offering apprehensive smile. It was clear that Neil’s resolve to give up starting line if he didn’t earn his place appealed to them. They were warming to him, which made Samuel considerably nervous.

As if sensing his discomfort, Neil pushed on.

“But you won’t need to. I always earn my keep.”

From the couch, Nicky let out a snort. One of the upperclassmen sighed heavily, it was probably Dan, but he didn’t care to check. Neil looked pointedly at Wymack, looking for approval before heading off to the locker room.

Wymack considered them all for another moment. “Gear up.”

Everyone got up at once. The promise of an interesting match, even after what for some of them would have been several weeks off the court, was plenty of incentive. Only Andrew remained seated after a moment. He was still smiling when he spoke.

“It’s always Exy. The punching game sounded like a much better time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Things are going to start heating up a bit more coming up in the next few chapters, so keep a look out!  
> PSA: Calling all Aaron lovers! Join me in my defense of [Aaron Michael Minyard](http://mnyerds.tumblr.com/post/160816731794/why-do-you-like-aaron-gross) in my latest tumblr rant.  
> As always, please comment thoughts, opinions, recommendations, and favorite lines, and leave kudos!  
> Thank each and every one of you for reading :-)


	6. Court of Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samuel and Neil have their first encounter with Andrew on court.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is now complete, though still a little shorter than the others! Thank you to everyone that has been so patient on my slow updates of late; I truly am humbled by your guys devotion to this fic!

** Neil: **

Though Samuel, Neil, and Seth were the only ones about to step onto the court, everyone but Andrew geared up. The upperclassmen, minus Seth and in addition to Nicky, had thought up a competition while Neil had shrugged on his gear in a bathroom stall.

During their practices with Dan and Matt, it had been easy to wait for Matt to finish and head to the foyer before getting dressed to head to the court, and before that he hadn’t cared about Samuel seeing him. Now, however, with five strangers surrounding him, Neil couldn’t even bring himself to change into his court shorts. His legs were relatively clean, but the scars riddling his torso would spur questions he wasn’t sure he was capable of answering.

He could have followed Samuel’s lead. When Matt had changed with them the first time, he’d flinched outwardly at the thick white lines coating Samuel’s body. Tales of their eight years of considerable violence were easily read in the slashes across Samuel’s skin. Matt’s flinch had been followed by a thick, “Jesus…” and a gaping fish mouth. This had resulted in the elder Josten shrugging, “We’re all Foxes for a reason.”

Which had been the end of the discussion. That wasn’t a statement anyone could rebuttal.

Neil was a spider by trade; he’d long ago mastered the art of spinning a clean, well-structured

 lie that demanded you to look no deeper, but he fell short when it came to the marks on his body. To lie about where they came from seemed to Neil like he was protecting his father, the Moriyama’s, their eager followers, from all that they’d done. It was something Neil couldn’t bear. So, he settled for his second greatest talent.

Neil evaded. He never let anyone see his scars. Like Matt, it wouldn’t take the other’s long after seeing Samuel’s to know that they were there, but there seemed to be an unspoken code among the Foxes that you didn’t ask what made someone a Fox until they opened that door for you.

They regrouped beside the court, Dan explaining quickly how they’d planned out this competition of sorts. Wymack was attentive but stoically silent, letting his Foxes figure out this problem on their own. It was starting to occur to Neil that Wymack was tolerant of their insubordination and nastiness only because he understood the team needed to find their own hierarchy. Wymack would only intrude if their antics were threatening their game or their safety. And even his definition of ‘safety’ was questionable.

Neil half listened while he tried to stretch around his gear. Silently, he thanked himself for going for a run before coming to the court today, because it didn’t seem as if warm up laps were in their near future.

It would start with a skills challenge. Matt, who’d payed close attention to Samuel and Neil during their practices together, suggested lining cones and having them rebound shots off the court wall to knock them over. Neil smiled smugly when he noticed Seth blanch at this idea. Neil and Samuel could hit those cones in any order they were called, with little more than half a thought.

This was to be followed by one striker versus one backliner, with Renee on goal. They had fifteen minutes to score as many points as possible. Samuel furrowed his brows in consternation and disapproval when he realized there would be no actual scrimmage – an open goal would be too easy, Dan had said, and Andrew hadn’t bothered to put on gear today. Silently, Neil seconded Samuel’s growl of annoyance. There was little point in having a goalie that refused to play.

Andrew perched in the stands, watching them all. No one else looked up at him, but Neil couldn’t stop himself from taking the occasional peak. The smile had drifted from Andrew’s face, replaced by a bored mask of indifference. What looked like a whiskey bottle sat beside him. Thanks to Dan and Matt, Neil knew Andrew was allowed to be sober during games, but he couldn’t seal away his flash of alarm when he realized Andrew had chosen to forgo his meds today.

Something in the man’s face changed when he wasn’t clouded with prescriptions, and it went beyond that crazed smile slipping away. Andrew and Aaron looked more alike, Neil realized, flashing glances between them, when Andrew was sober. Their identical features were almost indistinguishable when they wore that same expression of boredom and disdain. The difference was in their eyes. Even from their significant distance, Neil could see that Andrew’s gaze was vacant. Aaron, at least, looked half way like he was okay with being alive.

Their start off with the cones went as easily as Neil had expected. He and Samuel performed perfectly. Cockiness got the better of them before Seth had even started, and they called out numbers to each other rapidly, changing the flow of their swings to hit the indicated cones. The thud of the ball against the court walls was music to Neil’s ears, second only to Seth’s curses as he failed to hit a single cone.

They let Seth take the Court against Nicky and Renee first. Neil and Samuel stood side by side at the Court wall, taking the opportunity to learn their new teammates playing styles. Nicky wasn’t the greatest, and Neil decided half his skill was in his ability to distract the striker with sly insults and mockery. Seth was stronger, however, and easily swept Nicky to the ground with a body check or the sweep of an arm, and headed straight for Renee.

To her credit, Renee held her own considerably. She was good, but not great. She spent too long watching Seth’s movements to determine his swing, and not enough time letting instinct take over, but still managed to block four fifths of his shots.

By the end of fifteen minutes, Seth had scored two times.

Neil and Samuel exchanged a smug look. For any good striker, two goals in fifteen minutes was considered a good day. But Neil and Samuel weren’t good strikers. They were great strikers, and looking to prove it.

They swapped Nicky for Matt and Seth for Samuel. When they’d finished, Samuel had scored seven times. Matt was less winded than he had been after their first scrimmage, but still stupidly surprised by Samuel’s skill. Neil remained expressionless while the rest of the Foxes muttered amongst themselves, all excited apart from Seth, who was scoffing in irritation. When Neil flicked a glance to the stands to gauge Andrew’s reaction, the goalie was gone.

Samuel shoved his way through the court door, helmet already tucked under his arm. He met Neil’s stare. “No less than four.” Was all he said.

The rest of the team was clearly lost at the statement, but Neil nodded. They gave Renee five minutes to swig from her water bottle and recover before Neil began to head for his starting spot on the court, Aaron following closely behind him.

Neil didn’t bother starting slow. Aaron’s footwork held more than enough room for improvement and, anyway, he’d yet to encounter anyone on the court who could even begin to match his speed. The smaller boy was quick and vicious, but not quick or vicious enough. Fifteen minutes was a lifetime for Neil. Four shots was easy. Too easy. Neil barely had to think before taking a step.

When Wymack blew the whistle for him to stop, he’d already landed six points.

Over the pounding in his ears, Neil faintly heard murmurs among the rest of his teammates. He took a few deep breaths, steadying his racing heart, and turned to see what they were all staring at.

Andrew had reappeared at the court door, fully geared. He flashed Renee a signal with his hands, and the other goalie began to make her way off the court. When she passed him, Neil could see that Renee was smiling. Andrew gripped Samuel by the back of the neck and propelled him onto the court. Samuel grunted, using his stick to bat the other boy away, but trudged to Neil’s side none the less. The upperclassmen and the cousins were watching with wide eyes. Nicky looked half way between excited and nauseous.

Aaron silently trailed off the court. Neil watched him with a curious eye. Andrew didn’t even look at his brother as he passed. Aaron didn’t seem bothered.

The Josten boys waited while Andrew set himself up in goal. His vacant expression hinted at nothing, but it was clear by the rest of the team’s attentions on the three of them that something about this was uncharacteristic. Silence filled the space. Neil could hear his heart pounding softly in his ears, quieting after his brief fifteen minutes of play time. Minutes passed. Each one more unbearable than the last. He was itching to move.

With considerable annoyance, Samuel broke first.

Neil watched silently for a few minutes, net up in case Samuel beckoned him forward, but otherwise still. Andrew’s face remained completely blank, and he let Samuel make five goals without so much as a moving a muscle. Across the court, Samuel let out a growl and slammed a ball straight into Andrew’s stomach. Something twitched at the edge of the Minyard boys mouth; not quite a smile, but _something_. Andrew picked up the ball and sent it flying to the other side of the court.

Neil was off like a shot. He’s always been faster than Samuel, and since his time on the court with Matt and Dan his long throws had considerably improved. The ball had barely been swooped up in his net before he was turning, yanking his arms forward with as much force as he could muster to send the ball careening in Samuel’s general direction.

When Samuel caught it and made his shot on goal, Andrew moved quicker than any goalkeeper Neil had ever seen. He blocked the shot easily, throwing the ball back down court again for Neil to retrieve.

The Josten brother had never had a problem scoring goals. Against Andrew, who seemed intent on tiring them out by forcing them to run the entire length of the court, they appeared to have met a near match. He was faster and more accurate than anyone Neil could remember playing against. By the time Wymack smacked a fist against the court wall to call them to a stop, they’d only managed an extra three goals on top of Samuel’s original five.

Samuel looked ready to start a fist fight.

Andrew looked like he didn’t feel anything at all.

Neil was elated.

It had been so long since he’d felt challenged; like he might still have room to improve. Andrew was Court material, and Neil wasn’t passing up the chance to learn from him.

Samuel didn’t seem to share his sentiment. He was walking towards Andrew with feet stopping with rage, and the smaller boy didn’t seem to have half a care. Andrew’s fingers entwined with the mesh of the face guard of Samuel’s helmet before he gave a mighty shove, sending Samuel sprawling across the court floor. Neil furrowed his brows, but he didn’t move to intervene. Samuel looked more shocked than harmed, and Andrew was already two thirds of the way to the court door, gloves tucked under one arm.

Neil’s excitement dimmed to curiosity. It seemed everyone on the Foxhole Court had more than a few issues that couldn’t be solved with a racket to the stomach or a solid punch.

“He was holding back,” Samuel growled, appearing at Neil’s side. His dark mood engulfed Neil like a cloud.

“Holding back?”

Samuel’s brows furrowed. “He doesn’t care. He blocked enough shots to piss me off, but he could have blocked them all.”

Neil let that sink in. The Foxes atrocious record seemed like a waste when he considered that even amongst some of the best teams in the NCAA, Andrew likely could have given them a near perfect season. “So how do we get him to care?”

“That’s what we’re going to have to find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I know updates have been very slow recently, so I've quite literally locked myself in the bathroom so as not to be disturbed by my family and am working on a bonus chapter in Aaron's point of view as we speak!


	7. *Bonus Chapter* : Aaron off Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron's view of Samuel and Josten on court with Andrew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ya'll! Thank each and every one of you for being so patient. In reward, I literally locked myself in the bathroom for three hours and wrote this little bonus chapter in Aaron's POV to give you a sneak peak of some of his character development coming up :-)  
> I also wanted to say that For the Love of the Game has officially hit 20,000 words and 50 pages in my word doc! So exciting!!

** Aaron: **

The Josten brothers were a problem Aaron didn’t need. As if  being confined to a dorm with Andrew and Nicky wasn’t enough torture on his academic life, the arrival of two rather mysterious and problematic strikers was not an issue Aaron wanted to acknowledge. Seth was already enough of a problem, and he mostly stayed away from the cousins when they weren’t on court.

Something about the two new arrivals was different.

Andrew stepping onto the court was a catalyst. Aaron had watched his brother ignore every member of their team for over a year. Less than an hour in the Josten’s presence, Andrew had made his biggest move of the year. Taking an interest was not a Minyard quality, and yet…

Aaron couldn’t deny he shared his brother’s intrigue. He stood at Nicky’s side, face inches from the Plexiglas court walls, and watched with the upperclassmen while Andrew cut the Josten’s down to size.

The upperclassmen were all whispered excitement and wonder. Nicky, ever the optimist, made and idiotic comment about Andrew finally coming out of his shell and making friends, to which Aaron barely restrained a snort. Andrew didn’t have any friends. He only had Aaron and Nicky by obligation. Nicky was too invested in family to let Andrew go without, and Aaron didn’t go back on his word.

Aaron watched with concern.

Without a doubt, the new strikers had more skill in their left legs than most his teammates had in their whole bodies, himself included, but something was distinctly off about them. He and Andrew rarely spoke, but they didn’t even need to meet eyes to know they were thinking the same thing about the newcomers. _They had secrets, and lots of them_.

Both were angry, veracious and cocky. Samuel had an attitude fit for a god, and Neil a shroud of violence barely concealed by a raised brow and a blank face. Perhaps the smaller Josten brother had more in common with Aaron’s misunderstood brother than most.

“Do you think Andrew will keep this up?”

Aaron looked at his cousin quizzically. Nicky couldn’t tear his eyes away from the court, but he’d tilted his face ever so slightly in Aaron’s direction. “Keep what up?”

“This. Being interested. Wanting to play.”

Aaron scoffed. “Don’t be naïve, Nicky. You know just as well as I do that he’s testing them. They’ll end up in Columbia with us, and then he’ll be done with them.”

Nicky sighed loudly, his shoulders sagging slightly. “He has to improve at some point, doesn’t he?”

“He’s an Minyard,” Aaron said. “And Minyards –”

“Don’t get higher than rock bottom.” Nicky grumbled, tapping his forehead against the court wall none to gently in a genuine sigh of frustration. “Why do you have to think like that?”

“I’m a realist.” Was the only response Aaron could think to return.

And it was true. Aaron had spent too much of his life with hopes and expectations. He’d hoped for a better mother and ended up with a dead one. He’d wished to be close to his twin and ended up being tied to a psychopath. Things didn’t go the way you hoped for them to. Not for anyone, but especially not for a Minyard.

Idly, Aaron wondered if he and Andrew would be more like Samuel and Neil if they’d grown up together. The Jostens had a silent communication beyond the standard twintuition. They knew the ins and outs of each other’s minds not because they’d spent time in the same womb, but because they’d spent so much time in each other’s presence. And they seemed to like it that way.

Aaron hated them for it.

He’d wanted that with Andrew, once upon a time. The kind of relationship where you laughed when your twin laughed because you were both thinking of the same memories. The only memories Andrew and Aaron shared were bruises and annoying car rides with Nicky. They’d never bonded. They’d never talked. Hell, Aaron was lucky when Andrew even looked at him.

“They’re going to change the whole game for us.” Dan murmured, watching Samuel slam his racquet against the court wall in triumph when he made a goal on Andrew. “He’s _on the court_. And they’re actually scoring on him. This changes everything.”

“We could actually make it to death matches this year.” Matt beamed.

Aaron was glad to see him looking less sweaty and close to death, and more like a human being again. Memories of the previous year in Columbia made him want to flinch, but he’d never earned anything good from disagreeing with Andrew’s decisions.

Behind him, Wymack made a noise of half-hearted consent.

“They’re not that great.” Seth grumbled, though his eyes hadn’t left the court since they’d stepped onto it.

“You’re full of shit.” Nicky laughed. “They’re fantastic.”

“Perhaps they’ll have something more to teach us.” Renee offered, and Matt launched into details about the drills the Jostens had taught him and Dan over the past week.

Aaron let them all talk over each other, despite knowing they were idiots. He’d taken to the Wymack code of silence. Let the team build themselves up, don’t encourage it, and they’re less likely to have a complete and utter meltdown when shit hit the fan. Still though, this was more intense. There was genuine hope amongst the Foxes, and emotion they’d all learned to stamp out under a heavy boot long ago.

“I wouldn’t bet on it.” Aaron mumbled. It was so rare for him to address the entire team that they all fell silent and turned to him. Even Wymack tossed a curious gaze his way. Shuffling uncomfortably under their collective gaze, Aaron watched Samuel fire a ball upcourt to Neil for a moment before speaking again. “You’re all blind. There’s something wrong with him.”

Allison chortled. “There’s something wrong with all of us, monster.”

Aaron ignored the jibe and continued. “Not like that. They’re obviously a little fucked up, but there’s something else to, and Andrew knows it. He doesn’t like secrets.”

“Everyone’s got secrets.” Matt shrugged, but he didn’t look like he believed it.

Nicky supplied the response when Aaron stayed silent. “No one keeps secrets around Andrew for long.”

The upperclassmen fell silent. Their excitement had been dampened by Aaron’s words, but he didn’t regret saying them. Better they shape up to reality sooner rather than later. Besides, they were more annoying when they were happy anyhow.

“Andrew will leave them alone.” Wymack spoke up for the first time since they’d stepped onto the court. “I don’t have any qualms booting your entire family tree from the line up if we have another incident like last year.”

Matt and Nicky both flinched. Aaron’s grimace deepened, but he doubted anyone would notice. The team rarely ever noticed anything when it came to Aaron. The press referred to him as the normal Minyard, but amongst the team he was the invisible Minyard. Not that he really cared. It was easier to be invisible than to be as front and center as Andrew.

He turned his attention back to the court, watching his brother shove Samuel to the floor by his helmet. Neil watched from a safe distance, stilled with curiosity. Aaron could already tell he didn’t like him. Neil’s eyes glued to Andrew when they should have glued to his kin. Aaron and Andrew’s relationship might have been twisted beyond recognition, but Andrew would have been at Aaron’s defense in a heartbeat if anyone had touched him.

When Andrew filed off the court, Neil and Samuel already forgotten behind him, Aaron and Nicky watched after them. Practice wasn’t technically over, but Wymack didn’t stop Andrew from leaving. Instead, he simply watched with his usual intense stare, considering and noting something the rest of them were too daft to notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really hoping this helps keep ya'll interested until the next chapter is finished! There last few have been a bit slow, but there's a major event coming up for the Josten brothers in the next chapter!


	8. The Truth is Out p.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this on my phone was the roughest experience of my life, so I'm posting half the chapter tonight!

**Samuel:**          

Dorming with Seth and Matt was about as pleasant as wearing shoes made of glass. Seth was a mess, both in his physical and psychological presence. Samuel might have been known for a little cloud of gloom following him around, but Seth walked into a room and brought a hurricane of rage with him. With the added benefit of less than an hour in the dorms before his laundry was scattered from the bedroom to their small living area, Samuel was ready to strangle the older striker.

Matt remained pleasant as always, though clearly on edge. He tiptoed around each and every one of them, slinking off to the girls dorm room more often than he bothered to stay in his own.

Their first night as a quartet had been a rather awkward attempt at bonding, Neil forcing Samuel to participate on the grounds of their cover. Samuel would near rather have broken his own hand than sat between Matt and Seth for two hours while they watched an unbearably stupid comedy no one cared about while Seth guzzled beer like water. Samuel abstained on Neil’s behalf. Neil didn’t drink, or refused to, and Samuel didn’t want to draw anymore attention to them than was already necessary. That didn’t stop him from aching for two or three good inches of vodka to find their way into his stomach.

Now on night two, Samuel was looking forward to practice that night and classes starting the next morning more than he’d ever thought possible. A few hours on the court would calm his frayed nerves, and Samuel couldn’t remember the last time he’d actual been able to enjoy learning. He’d always maintained impeccable grades, even when shuffling schools with Neil and Mary, but now that he could actually stick with a class, he found himself excited by it. There was so much more to the world when you weren’t wondering where your next bed was going to be.

And that thought alone was terrifying.

They’d spent eight long years running, never staying in one place for too long. Millport had been he and Neil’s longest stint, and even that had been a mistake. Yet, here Samuel was. Annoyed with roommates, already beginning to feel somewhat comfortable in a room that he might have to share but he could truly call _his._ It felt like he was asking for something to happen.

It felt like the beginnings of a reckoning.

Voicing his concerns to Neil during their morning jog along Perimeter Road had been a poor decision, to say the least.

“You wanted to be here,” Neil reminded him, exasperated. “You pushed for this.”

Samuel tried to bite back some of his hurt at that accusation. “You agreed to. Don’t put this all on me. We _both_ wanted to be here.”

Neil only sighed, pushing himself a little faster.

Against both their better interests, Samuel kept pushing. “Do you really think you could do it?”

“Do what?”

“Leave. Give this up. If we got a whiff of bad news, do you really think you could let this all go and start running again?”

Neil slowed, coming to a full stop and staring at the ground. They stood together in silence for a long time, both of them heavy laden with thought and worry. Death had been the shadow sewn to their heals for the better part of their lives, both together and apart, and they’d grown used to it’s dark hue edging to their peripheral vision. But now they had golden gates before them, a gleaming beacon the likes of which they’d never seen, and to slow to explore them meant letting that shadow engulf them.

“If I was alone, no. No, I don’t think I could give it up,” Neil gulped. “But I’m not alone. And I’m sure as hell not letting you get yourself killed.”

A flicker of guilt flashed through Samuel’s mind. He hadn’t quite let himself consider what would happen to Neil in all of this. Denial had always been one of his strongest defense mechanisms. But now that the thought had been brought forward, Samuel couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made a mistake encouraging this.

Palmetto State and Exy were a dream they should never have been able to touch. Both of them were too hungry for their name in the record books, to be more than the raised scars on their skin and fake names in an obituary. How long could you go being a ghost before you simply faded away?

He wanted to be Kevin Day again. He wanted to talk about his mother, all the great things she’d done, how she’d shaped his entire life even after she’d died. He wanted to be a Prince of Exy again. He wanted to play for Pro team and make it to Court. He wanted to have a name that didn’t cost anything.

“I know you miss it.” Neil murmured, looking at Samuel rather intensely. “Being Kevin. I can’t give that back to you. But we can have this. At least for a while.”

“I’m not sure awhile it enough.” Samuel murmured, and Neil had the good sense to let it drop. They continued their run in silence, Samuel’s mind heavy with guilt and half-made decisions.

 

** Neil:  **

Their first day of official practices began in the worst way Samuel could imagine. Coach Wymack insisted they gather in the foyer before gearing up, and that request alone set everyone on edge. The upperclassmen seemed especially thrown off, which made Neil more nervous than ever.

The cousins were the only ones who seemed unaffected, though Neil attributed that to Andrew being high off his ass and Aaron refusing to show any emotions at all. Nicky was jittery with nervous humor, but that seemed to be a continuous problem in his personality.

They all waited in anxious silence for Wymack to arrive, Allison or Seth occasionally grumbling in annoyance. Abby drifted in first, sitting in the back of the room and smiling sadly at anyone who looked her way. Her presence seemed to tip the scales. It was Seth who broke the uneasy silence.

“Alright, what the hell is going on now?” Gordon grumbled darkly, he flicked a look at the cousins as if he might be able to burn them with his gaze. “What’d the monsters do this time?”

Andrew smiled brightly. “I’ve been good. Ask my doppelganger.”

 Aaron’s face didn’t move a muscle.

“They didn’t do anything, that I know about. And if they did do something I don’t want to know about it unless it’s going to cause me a lawsuit.” Wymack grumbled, emerging from his office and standing in front of them with a weary, angry gaze. “Now, I’ve got some news and I imagine you all are not going to like it.”

Matt and Dan exchanged a heavy look. Neil had the feeling they knew what was coming.

“The NCAA made the announcement this morning. As of 10am, the Edgar Allen Ravens are now officially transferred to our district.”

The effect was instantaneous. The upperclassmen erupted in outrage. Beside Neil, Samuel stopped breathing for a moment. Neil was turning to him instantly, his panicked heart torn between flight and damage control. He thumped Samuel on the back heavily when he went a few moments longer without any movement. Samuel took in a short, tight breathe.

“Samuel –” Neil began, eyes flicking around the room. Only Andrew seemed to have noticed Samuel’s impending meltdown, his eyes not leaving either of the Josten brother’s faces. But the others were busy exchanging angry words with Wymack, and Neil tuned them out as best he could.    

Samuel grabbed at Neil's arm, eyes wild. He looked slightly green, like he might be sick. “We have to go we have to go,” He gasped, real terror in his voice. “Please, he knows I’m here. I should have listened to you. Please Neil we **have to go**.”

His voice rose on the last three words, becoming wild and flooded with fear. The rest of the room fell silent. Fighting his own panic, Neil quickly switched to French.

“Get up,” He growled, fisting Samuel’s shirt in his hand and yanking him to his feet. “We’re leaving now. We’ll be out of here within a few hours.”

“We’re going to die.” Samuel groaned, though he had enough control to switch languages as well, his entire body shaking. “Maybe I can go back. Maybe he’ll just kill me outright and be done with it.”       

Neil resisted the urge to punch Samuel in the back. Fear had always gotten the better of the older boy, and heat of the moment had never been Samuel’s best moments. “Shut up. No one is dying. We’re going. _Move_.”

He gave Samuel a shove, ignoring everyone else and pushing toward the exit.

“Where the hell are you two going?” Wymack called after them, his voice especially gruff.

Samuel caught himself against a wall, his breaths coming in short, strangled gasps. Abby was across the room in a heartbeat, a hand on his back while she murmured things to him. He turned and flung himself on her, hands fisting into her shirt while he struggled to breathe.

Neil swore. He meant to pull Samuel away, but Andrew was in front of him before he could make a move.

“You know, I’m not a fan of secrets.”

It was insane that someone so short could have such a massive presence, but Andrew had an insane impact that made Neil feel as if any wrong move would land him in a hospital bed. Neil might have had a few inches on Andrew, but he had a feeling this was a fight he couldn’t win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much as always for all of your amazing feedback. I try not to reply too often so I don't clog things up or give any spoilers, but I love coming online and reading everything!


	9. The Truth is Out p.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me longer than expected ya'll! As per usual I kind of suck at regular updates, but I've finally finished off Part 2 of "The Truth is Out"!!! This bit is unedited, because it's late and I wanted ya'll to be able to get your update fix, but hopefully ya'll don't mind too much!

**Neil:**

It was insane that someone so short could have such a massive presence, but Andrew had an strange impact that made Neil feel as if any wrong move would land him in a hospital bed. Neil might have had a few inches on Andrew, but he had a feeling this was a fight he couldn’t win.

“Get out of my way.” Neil tried to make himself sound calm and firm, but there was a quiver in his voice he couldn’t hold back. “It’s none of your concern.”

Andrew only smiled broader. “Oh, I’m not concerned. Because you’re going to tell me.”

Neil’s mind was racing. He needed to get to his locker and grab his duffle. He needed to get Samuel out of here. _He_ needed to get out of here. They’d always been so careful. Neil couldn’t remember the last time either of them had had their natural hair color, or gone without colored contacts. Everything had been so perfectly engineered.

And now it was all for nothing. Neil wanted his mom. She would know what to do. She would be able to fix it. But she was a bag of bones on a black sands beach on the other side of the country. No one was going to help them now but themselves.

“Just move.” Neil growled, sidestepping Andrew and heading for the locker room. He turned his head over his shoulder as he walked, yelling back at his brother, “You have five minutes to pull yourself together. We need to go, **now**. We needed to be gone yesterday.”

He heard Samuel trying to pry himself off of Abby, heard her small murmurs of worry and Wymack striding across the room with a gruff edge of his voice. Neil didn’t listen to what they were saying. He didn’t have time.

Desperation and fear kept him from noticing Andrew following him. Neil was too caught up in his own world to register the soft footfalls behind him. He was too quick and too worried to comprehend everything but his mind screaming _run_ until there was a fist tangled in his hair, forcing him up against the wall of lockers.

His body slammed with a startling impact that he felt in his teeth. With wide eyes, he met Andrew’s manic smile. Nicky and Aaron had appeared at the locker room door, standing silent guard and watching with blank faces and curious eyes.

“How stupid are you, exactly?” Andrew’s grin was sharp as a knife, and Neil resisted the urge to flinch. “I said I don’t like secrets.”

Neil snorted, pushing hard against Andrew’s chest. The smaller boy barely budged. “You can’t always get what you want. Now let go of me.”

Andrew laughed. It was a high, cruel sound. Neil never wanted to hear it again.

“Andrew, maybe we should just let the kid be.” It was Nicky’s voice, calling out in worry from across the locker room. It took Neil a moment to register that the words he was hearing weren’t English. “It looks like they just want out of here.”

“Shut up, Nicky.” Aaron murmured in what Neil was beginning to register as some dialect of German.

He refrained from stiffening under Andrew’s fist. There was no way they could know Neil understood them. They weren’t talking to him. They didn’t know. But maybe…

“They are running,” Andrew called back to his family, his German forced and formal, “and I want to know why.”

Neil stayed silent. Andrew quirked a curious brow, his smile broadening. His next words were in English.

“What’s in the duffle, Neil?”

Neil’s entire body went rigid with dread. His entire life was in that bag; the key to he and Samuel’s survival. Andrew couldn’t have it. None of them could. The Josten’s lives depended on what was in that bag staying a secret.

There was a knife at his stomach before he could even register that Andrew had moved. Neil hated knives, he hated the look of them, the memories they brought to the surface, the way they made the scars lining his body ache as if they were a fresh wound. He’d known Andrew was crazy, but the appearance of the small blade convinced him that Andrew was fully psychotic.

It didn’t matter. He still wouldn’t talk.

“Go ahead,” Neil laughed, the fear flowing through his body making him sound delirious. “Your knives are the least of my problems.”

That seemed to peak Andrew’s attention. “Interesting.”

They were interrupted by the clamor of the door slamming open. Wymack appeared on the threshold, a tearstained Samuel hovering behind him. It took Samuel five seconds to register the blade pressed lightly to Neil’s stomach, and Wymack a few seconds longer.

Samuel was moving in a heartbeat. “Get away from him you crazy little bastard.”

“Minyard, god dammit, what the hell are you doing?” Wymack’s voice echoed out at the same time.

Wymack’s arrival seemed to trigger something in Andrew, a sense of restraint that Neil wouldn’t have guessed he even had, because the goalkeeper took a step back and made the knife disappear. Neil couldn’t even figure out where he’d hidden it.

Samuel stopped at Neil’s side, his face swollen from his panicked tears, but now set in steel. He angled his body in front of Neil’s just slightly, a silent gesture that let everyone in the room know there would be a fight if they stepped forward.

Silently, Neil thanked Andrew for causing the right kind of problem that would pull Samuel back from his immense state of panic.

“One of you is going to explain,” Wymack snapped, looking back and forth between the Josten brothers with an expression akin to rage, “what is going on, right now.”

Samuel spoke to Neil in French before anyone could answer the angry coach. “What do we tell them?”

“Nothing.” Neil snarled angrily. “We tell them nothing.”

“They’re not going to let us leave, Neil. We have to say something sooner or later or they’re just going to keep asking and asking –”

“I don’t care! We’re in enough trouble as is. Telling them is just going to put them right next to us on the chopping block.”

Samuel sighed heavily, looking especially grim. “What if they can help us? All this time we’ve been running, we’ve never asked before -”

Bile rose so quickly to Neil’s throat that he thought he might be sick. They’d never asked for help before because it was an equal death sentence. It meant revealing identities they’d been hiding for eight years. Asking for help was going against every rule his mother had ever taught them.

Irrational anger had Neil near seeing red. He was appalled with Samuel’s stupidity, but he forced his voice to stay level, if venomous, when he spoke. “I’m not going back to being the Butcher’s son.”

Samuel flinched, but his expression was pleading. Neil knew with sudden clarity what Samuel wanted. Perhaps he’d known for some time; perhaps he’d simply not wanted to admit it to himself. But he knew now, and it set his whole world of kilter.

The Josten brothers exchanged a silent conversation. Neil begged Samuel to change his mind. Samuel pleaded for forgiveness.

It was the first time in eight years that Neil could remember them being on opposite sides.

“How about in English?” Wymack growled.

Neil lifted his gaze back to their coach, hoping his expression portrayed his silent plea for mercy. He and Samuel didn’t know these people; they didn’t owe them anything. If Wymack kept pushing, Samuel would tell them everything. Neil wasn’t religious, but in that moment he prayed. He prayed to whoever or whatever was listening to grant Samuel some sense.

 Neil’s prayers were not answered.

 

** Samuel: **

 

“I don’t know what the hell just happened in there, but we’re your team. You don’t have to go announcing your secrets to the whole crew if that’s not what you want to do, but you’re sure as hell going to be honest with me. What is it about Edgar Allen that’s got you two so rankled?”

Samuel resisted the urge to flinch at the anger in Coach Wymack’s tone. Neither he nor Neil had ever dealt well with male authority figures. They’d had too many beatings not to have an ingrained mistrust in all older men. And David Wymack was a rather opposing figure. Wymack’s connection with Samuel’s mother did little to keep Samuel from wanting to stay out of arm’s reach.

“I can’t play against the Ravens, Coach.” Samuel murmured, flicking his eyes toward the cousins.

The monsters had been lurking throughout the entire exchange. For Neil’s sake, Samuel wouldn’t say anything else with them in the room.

Wymack seemed to understand his silent train of thought. With an annoyed huff, he flapped his hands in a shooing motion towards the cousins. “Alright, get out here.” He pushed Nicky and Aaron, both more than willing to exit the scene, out the door and turned back toward’s Andrew. “You too, Minyard.”

Andrew didn’t move.

“Get out.” Neil hissed from Samuel’s side. The smaller boy’s voice sounded acidic to anyone who didn’t know him, but Samuel could hear the misery underneath it. Guilt flicked in Samuel’s stomach.

Tension between he and Neil was building an anxiety in him that refused to be trampled. He needed Neil to understand. They were brothers, and he needed Neil to forgive him for his selfishness. He’d given eight years of his life to the boy beside him, had trusted him irrevocably. But now he _needed_ to do this. Over the course of their conversation, Samuel had realized he couldn’t go back to their old life. The real pieces of him wouldn’t survive another year on the run.

“I don’t like secrets.” Andrew said again.

“I don’t give a damn what you don’t like!” Samuel snapped.

The entire room went unnaturally silent. There was no sound of breath; no shuffle of uncomfortable movement. It took Samuel a moment to understand what had happened. Andrew had spoken in German, and Samuel had responded in kind.

Neil made a small squeak of despair, and sank to the bench. He buried his head in his hands. Samuel could see the tension in his shoulders, the panic that his brother was trying to hold back waging a war beneath the surface of his skin. _I’m scared too_ , Samuel wanted to tell him, but that wouldn’t be fair.

“That wasn’t the language you two were speaking a few minutes ago.” Wymack murmured, genuinely bewildered.

“I speak four languages.” Samuel responded, fighting his fear and straightening his spine. “Most as a matter of necessity.”

“What requires a teenager to speak four languages?” Andrew queried, a sick smile on his face. He was enjoying the puzzle; enjoying watching the show unravel. “Please, do tell, _Samuel_.”

It was the way Andrew said his name. That’s when Samuel understood that Andrew already knew their secret, or had at least put the pieces together in order to form a very correct assumption. Andrew was smarted than Samuel had given him credit for; and at more than just Exy. In a strange turn of events, Andrew’s discovery of his secret brought Samuel a strange sense of comfort.

Casting one last guilty glance at Neil, Samuel steeled himself for what he was about to do. He turned to Wymack, mournfully meeting the coach’s eyes. “You asked me what it was about Edgar Allen that caused all this.”

Wymack nodded. The older man’s eyebrows were furrowed in thought, trying to piece the puzzle together.

“Do you know who Jean Moreau is?”

“Of course, I know who Jean Moreau is.” Wymack grunted. “Starting backliner for the Ravens.  What’s that going to do with anything?”

“Do you remember the number tattooed on his face? And what is stands for?”

“It’s a three.” Andrew interrupted, cocking his head to the side. His smile was gone, replaced by a calculating expression. Samuel wouldn’t be surprised if Andrew put the pieces together before their coach did. “They’re for that Riko pricks perfect court.”

Samuel nodded. He swallowed a lump him his throat. He couldn’t look at Neil, his guilt was too thick, but he felt Neil’s gaze burning into him. “And who has the number two?”

“No one.” Wymack murmured. He had an expression somewhere between disbelief and whimsy. Somewhere deep, he’d put the pieces together as well. “It’s reserved for-”

The room fell quiet. It was now or never. Samuel forced himself to look at Neil, to meet the sadness in his gaze. His guilt was powerful, but his desire to be a real person again was stronger. Someday, Neil would understand. Neil always understood the important things. He’d understand this someday too.

“I’m sorry,” Samuel murmured in quiet French. “We’ll always be brothers.”

Neil flinched slightly, and Samuel almost changed his mind. Almost. But then Neil spoke, voice barely a whisper. “Always.”

And Samuel knew he was being granted freedom, and forgiveness. He gave Neil a nod of silent thanks. They didn’t need to share the same name to understand that they were bonded for life. Neil had sewn up Samuel’s wounds with a sewing needle and crude thread. They’d carried half of each other’s weight when one of them was too weak to run. They’d survived together. They would always be brothers. But it was time they’d _lived_ together too.

It was time to let go. The man who’d been dying for freedom took a deep, shuddering breath, and wished Samuel Josten goodbye.

“Edgar Allen. I used to live there. It’s where my mother sent me after she died. I ran away eight years ago.” He told them, looking first at Andrew, who wasn’t the least surprised, and then at Wymack, who looked like he’d seen a ghost. And maybe he had. “My real name is Kevin Day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys are enjoying this story still. I love reading all of your comments and getting everyone's feedback. You're all amazing readers and I'm amazed every time I update by how invested some of you are in this story.  
> I'll try to update again soon - with the bonus Andrew chapter as promised!


	10. Don't be the Rabbit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm honestly the worst at updating and I'm really sorry it took me so long to get something else written. College is rough and I suck at managing a to-do list.   
> I'm not sure when chapter 11 will be up, though I am in the process of writing it right now. But for now, here is the long promised chapter in Andrew's POV. I hope y'all like it, and that I did Andrew's character justice.

**Andrew:**

“My real name is Kevin Day.”

The words should have had more weight, but Andrew had put the pieces together long before the not-Samuel prick had finally grown a spine and opened his mouth. He was rather fond of puzzles, which was peculiar considering how much Andrew loathed secrets. It was hard to control a situation when people were so intent on acting as if the world would crumble if someone knew they had issues, but life was incredibly boring when you knew what cards everyone was playing. There was a precarious ledge between the two worlds, and Andrew walked the center of it.

Discovering that not-Samuel – he really should get used to referring to the tall idiot as Kevin now – and Neil spoke German had been so simple. Neil’s body was his tell. Andrew had felt the near imperceptible tension of Neil’s body under his fingers, had looked straight into the other boy’s eyes and caught the rising panic that had flooded them for the briefest of moments before Neil had managed to quiet himself again. All the other pieces were too easily read. The lack of family, the refusal to acknowledge personal details, the binder hidden in Neil’s duffle bag that contained enough bank receipts to purchase four houses in the Hamptons.

Andrew had known they were runaways from day one. But this – Kevin Day, Prince of Exy, hiding amongst the Foxes? _This_ was interesting.

Behind him, Andrew could feel Wymack’s silent anguish. It was no secret to anyone that David Wymack owed his career to Kayleigh Day, the long dead Mother of Exy. The co-founder of the sport had taught Wymack everything he knew about the game. Andrew was willing to bet there was a silent war waging inside their coach now that no one would be able to understand. A better man would have asked him if he were alright, would have offered a look of comfort or a clap on the shoulder. Andrew couldn’t bring himself to give a damn.

He turned to Neil and Samuel instead. Samuel was watching Neil with uneasy eyes as the smaller of the not-brothers rose to his feet. No one spoke as Neil opened his locker, pulled out his duffle bag, and left the locker room. The three remaining men stayed silent as the foyer erupted in noise for a moment, and then a distance door slammed.

Kevin heaved a shuddering sigh and sat down hard on the bench. He looked defeated in a way that Andrew had seen few people look. He looked like Matt after Andrew had given him an eight ball – like he’s been to hell and back and was just coming to realize the extent of the damage. He made no moved to follow after the other boy.

“You’re going to tell me everything,” Andrew told Kevin with false cheer, giving him a look that told the other boy this was not a request. Kevin nodded uneasily, flicking anxious eyes to the door after Neil.

Andrew turned and left.

He didn’t stop when Aaron, Nicky, and the upperclassmen flung questions at him, or when Nicky tried to step in his way to get his attention. Andrew just kept walking down the hall, a little bounce to his step now that he’d discovered a new feature on his new toys, and out the doors of the stadium. It took him a few minutes to catch up to Neil, who he found standing the middle of Perimeter Road, staring at the pavement as if it held all the answers.

Andrew slowed his pace and stopped in front of Neil. He didn’t say anything. In Andrew’s experience, people tended to say more when they weren’t questioned. The quieter Andrew was, the more everyone else seemed to offer him.

They stood together in silence for a long while, the sunlight twisting their shadows to warped version of themselves, and the day unusually dead. It felt as if the whole campus was in silent anguish, the calm before the storm, for what was about to become of the Josten brothers and their secrets.

Neil didn’t lift his head when he spoke. “I’m not going to tell you anything. I don’t care whether or not you like secrets. There are choices to be made, ones you can’t possibly understand.”

Andrew tilted his head. Neil Josten, or whoever he really was, was a perplexing specimen. He was infuriating in that he didn’t make any sense, and Andrew had grown used to using force to get his way. Most people flinched when Andrew even entered a room, but Neil held his ground. Andrew said duck and Neil jumped.

“I’ve spent eight years guarding our past.” Neil murmured, and when he finally met Andrew’s gaze, there was a gleam of defiance there that Andrew almost admired. It was stupid, beyond stupid in fact, for Neil to keep up his act when it was clear Kevin was giving up on their game, but Andrew had to admit that Neil’s affinity for brave-but-idiotic decisions was one of the things that interested Andrew the most.

There was more to Neil Josten than probably anyone but Kevin knew. The more Andrew learned about him, the more mysterious he became. Every turn held something new and strange, something miraculous or dark.

He was a maze Andrew was determined to solve.

“Whatever it is that Kevin thinks he’s found here –” Neil shook his head. “I didn’t ask for it. I don’t want it.”

“Oh, Neil.” Andrew said, offering the other boy a broad, mocking smile. “Do you even know what you want? And don’t lie. I hate liars even more than I hate secrets.”

Neil opened his mouth, and for a moment Andrew thought he might actually give an answer. But then Neil’s mouth closed, his teeth grinding together with force, and Andrew could see that he wasn’t the only one walking a ledge. Andrew walked the ledge between control and discovery, but Neil walked the ledge between truth and lie.

Andrew would strangle Neil if he lied to him. There was a quiet rage bubbling beneath his skin, made worse by his drug induced mania. Puzzles were an interesting dip away from boredom, but Andrew had little patience for defiance. Yet, when Neil spoke, Andrew knew there was some truth to his words. It was like a game. Neil offered the truth, but it wasn’t to the real question Andrew was asking.

“I want to play.”

Like it was that simple. Andrew wanted to hit him. The single mindedness to a game that couldn’t give anything back to Neil was infuriating in particularly violent way. Andrew should let him leave. He could see it in Neil’s eyes – the kid wanted to run. But Andrew wasn’t the type to leave things unfinished, so instead he simply said, “Then don’t run. Don’t be the rabbit.”

He left Neil in the road to decide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feedback is always appreciated! I've moved tumblrs, but if I'm not active on discord you can always send an ask on tumblr to colestclairs about this fic, and I'll get back to you same day! Thanks for reading, you all are amazing <3


	11. Truth be Told

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy ya girl brewed a pot of coffee and powered through another chapter since I haven't updated in forever! Will it be enough for me to power through chapter 12? Debatable. But for now, have some precious Kevin x Neil moments that I've had written and waiting for post since May.

**Kevin:**

When Andrew returned, the team turned into a bustle of activity and nervous energy. Everyone wanted answers, Wymack most of all, but Kevin couldn’t think straight to save his life. In his mind he was replaying his confession and Neil walking out over and over in his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking that that might be the last time they ever saw each other. That Neil’s last memory of him would be betrayal.

They drug him back into the foyer, and eventually they seemed to fall silent. There was a silent, unanimous decision amongst them to push practice back or cancel it all together. Kevin tried not to be rankled by the fact that his secrets were more important than the game to them – they all needed all the practice they could get – but he kept his mouth shut. He wanted to play more than anything, and in order to step back onto that court, he was going to have to give them something.

Wymack had sat Kevin in front of the team and then fallen silent. Kevin couldn’t tell if he was still reeling from Kevin’s confession, or if he was simply letting the Foxes figure out how to deal with this revelation on their own.

Aaron and Nicky had already taken care of telling the rest of the Foxes his real identity, but Kevin didn’t know where to blur the line between truth and lie. He still had Neil to protect, and spinning a story that they would all believe without revealing Neil’s identity was going to be a challenge. “I don’t know where you want me to start,” Kevin admitted.

Seth snorted. “How about why you left Edgar Allen in the first place? I knew there was something wrong with you. You would have been set for life there.”

Kevin bristled, and it took near inhuman strength to keep from bearing his teeth at the other striker. “Don’t speak onto things you couldn’t possibly understand,” he snarled instead. “I would have been a pet, at best.”

Dan asked anxiously, “What do you mean by that?”

“After my mom died, the instructions in her will were that I would be sent to Edgar Allen, that Master- that Coach Moriyama would take over my care. I think, because they’d been friends once, that she thought I’d be happy there, well taken care of, and playing the game we both loved. But it wasn’t like that.” It came flooding out of him, the story he’d never gotten to tell. “Coach Moriyama didn’t want another kid to look after. So, he gave me to Riko.

“They fed me and clothed me, but my entire life became training for Exy. And if I didn’t meet standards, or if I showed up Riko in any way, they made sure I paid for it.” He found himself absentmindedly rubbing along his ribcage, where Riko had once smashed a racket when Kevin had beaten him in a scrimmage. There was still a misshapen lump under the skin where the bones hadn’t healed properly. His thread to sanity was already fraying, so he steered clear of the details.

“I was a possession to them, a pet to be trained and kicked around. So, I ran.”

Carefully, Kevin took a catalogue of everyone’s reactions. There was Abby, who wore the sad expression of someone who’d seen too many people hurt beyond repair. Dan and Matt, who share twin expressions of quiet rage, as if they wanted to avenge everything that had been done to Kevin tenfold. Renee, who smiled sadly as if she knew the pain he’d endured and admired the fact that he was still fighting. Nicky, so horrified his face was a hundred shades away from his usually playful grin. Allison and Seth, with begrudging looks of understanding. Aaron and Andrew, who both looked at him as if he were a riddle they were beginning to solve. And then Wymack, who’s calm facade did little to hide the green tinge to his skin.

“And what about Neil?” Matt queried. “Where does he fall into this?”

Kevin gathered everything he’d learned from Neil – the quiet resolve, the spine of steel, the refusal to give in, the tongue that didn’t trip over false truths – and prepared himself for the biggest lie of his life.

Because this lie was worse than the 22 names that lay between him and Edgar Allen. Lying about their past felt like he was taking away from everything Neil and Mary had ever given up for him. Kevin wanted the Foxes to know how Neil had suffered, and how he’d found it within himself to keep them both alive when they became good and truly alone in the world. But Neil didn’t want that, so Kevin spun the best story he could think of, and prayed that it would be enough.

“The Jostens took me in. I gave them minimal details – just that I had a bad home life and if they called the cops I’d be gone before anyone could do anything about it. And they kept my secret. They became my family. Eventually, Neil and I were close enough that I gave him the full story. When his mom parents died, we knew we’d be separated, or that people would figure out that I wasn’t really a Josten.”

“So, you just took off?!” Allison sounded incredulous. Kevin supposed he couldn’t blame her. “You’re both even bigger idiots than I thought.”

Kevin laughed. Some part of him registered the defeated edge to the sound. “Have you ever wanted something so badly that it encompassed every aspect of who you were? That it became your identity, the one thing that really made you  _ you _ ?”

He took the silence that met him as confirmation. There was no shortage of  _ wanting _ among  the Foxes. They’d all earned their spot on the team through one tragic, fucked up life or another. All of them had felt their bones ache with the need for something that felt impossible to achieve. Each of their stomachs had gone hollow and cold with fear that they’d lose the things they’d never had. Every single person in the room knew what it felt like to have to claw your way into the light after years spent in the dark.

“That’s how I feel about Exy. It was all I had left of my real life. The only piece of my mom I could hold onto. And Neil – Neil loves it just as much. We couldn’t give it up.”

“What about USC?” It was Aaron who asked, surprising all of them. He had his brows furrowed still, the most expression Kevin had ever seen him wear. “You had a scholarship offer there. Why did you choose Palmetto instead?”

“Because of Neil. Because I couldn’t go without him.”

The words came out so easily that they felt like a punch to the stomach. For eight years they’d been a packaged set. One couldn’t exist without the other. Samuel Josten might not exist anymore, but Neil Josten was still Kevin Day’s brother. Their names had changed nothing. Bonds ran deeper than blood, and Kevin’s bond to Neil was carved on his bones.

He was struck in that moment with how much time had passed since Neil had fled the locker room. There was a good chance that he was already long gone, but if there was a chance for Kevin to see him again, to explain, to at least make Neil understand, why he had to stay – then he needed to do it.

“Coach?” Kevin asked, a new tension in his voice. Wymack looked at him, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I need to go talk to Neil. This – all of it – me telling my story, it’s going to seem like everything he did for me, everything he  _ gave up _ for me, was for nothing. And I need him to understand.”

Wymack only nodded once. “Go.”

Kevin didn’t need to be told twice.

**Neil:**

Kevin found Neil in their dorm room, seated on Kevin’s bunk, staring at his duffle. Neil had already packed the few things he’d bothered to place in their room, but waited anyways. Some part of him had been hoping for Kevin to follow. To say that he’d changed his mind; that Neil didn’t have to go back out on the run alone.

When Kevin came through the door, Neil knew his hopes were as false as they’d always been. He’d known better than to expect anything good to come his way, but he’d been stupid enough to think Kevin would choose him anyways.

Defeated, he said, “You’re staying.”

"Neil –” Kevin started. He didn’t finish. Instead, he sat beside Neil on the bed and stared at his hands. He had the decency to sound guilty when he said, “I  _ want _ to stay."

Neil had expected as much, but the words still felt like a blow.

There were a thousand and a half reasons to say  _ No. Absolutely not. We're leaving. Now. Together. I will not let you die. _ but Neil understood the look in Samuel -  _ Kevin's _ \- eyes and knew his brother wouldn't survive another year on the run. At least not with all the best parts of him intact. Their short time with the Foxes had given Kevin back a glow for life that Neil hadn't noticed he'd lost. Kevin needed this team. He needed Exy. He needed to lay Samuel Josten to rest and bring Kevin Day back to life.

If he was honest with himself, Neil had to admit he wished he could do the same thing. He wished he didn’t have secrets he had to keep hiding. But life was never fair, and Neil was used to wishing for things he knew he could never have. Neil would take his secrets, his real identity, to the grave.

It was too late for Nathaniel Wesninski to redeem himself. No one wanted Nathaniel; not even Nathaniel himself.

“I kept your identity a secret.” Kevin told him, as if he knew what Neil was thinking. Which, he probably did. “I told them your family took me in, and that when your parents died we were scared of being separated, so we ran away to Millport together. As far as any of them know, you’ve never been anyone but Neil Josten.”

It was strange to consider that, maybe, just maybe, Samuel Josten could die and Neil Josten could still exist. Andrew likely wouldn’t believe it, would sniff out the lie in Kevin’s story, but Neil didn’t care. He wanted to be Neil. He wanted to be Neil until death forced his hand into becoming something else.

"Okay." Neil said.

Kevin looked at him like the stars had never been brighter, and then faded a little. "You don't have to stay with me." He murmured, looking at his feet instead of at Neil's face. "I know what being Neil means to you. I will not take that away."

Neil considered for a moment. It would be the most difficult conversation of his life, and it would put him and Kevin in the line of potential fire for months, but he could do it. They'd started this together. They were going to end it together.

"You can be Kevin Day again and I can still be Neil Josten." Kevin stared at him as if he were a biologist discovering a new species, a special brand of wonder on his face. "The name doesn't mean anything. We're still brothers. I’m still not leaving you behind."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little fun fact, Neil's POV in this scene was the second scene I ever wrote for this storyline. This is one of my favorite chapters thus far in terms of Kevin and Neil's relationship. Hope y'all are still digging it!


	12. A Word of Warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who actually powered through and (kinda) finished chapter 12 last night? Spotlight on our boy Kevin, who deserves extra attention now that I'm not thinly veiling him behind a new identity. I really dig the interactions in this chapter, so I hope all of you feel the same.

** Kevin: **

            The week that followed escalated in tension exponentially by the day. Neil’s reluctance to answer any questions and the Foxes unending curiosity were like two tectonic plates rubbing together – Kevin was waiting on the sidelines for a quake to crumble everything. But instead of snapping or running the way Kevin feared he would, Neil spent every waking moment on the court. He was more aggressive than ever, even harder on their teammates at times than Kevin was. Kevin could see it wearing on everyone’s patience. Even Renee was lacking her usual kind smile. Though Kevin couldn’t blame Neil for his reaction.

With Kevin’s real name released to the public, the entire university had gone insane. Vandalism sprung up around campus faster than the plague. Everywhere he went, someone had questions he had no idea how to answer. Wymack had kept the more horrific details from the public, and explained that Kevin had returned to Exy but was largely estranged from his adoptive family. The team had collectively decided that vague explanation would be best, but Kevin was already regretting it.

He couldn’t count the number of times he’d watched Riko’s media response to Wymack’s claim, and the dominant question amongst Exy fans everywhere: _if Kevin was coming back to Exy, why wasn’t he coming back to the Ravens?_ “Kevin understands that the Ravens are exclusive, and personal loyalties cannot have any sway in that matter,” Riko had said. “He currently plays for a team that’s in his skill set, and I for one am intrigued to see how this season will go for him. Though I assure you, Kevin _will_ be returning to the Ravens – when he’s earned his spot.”

Rage so hot it burned through his veins like molten fire flashed through Kevin every time he heard the words. Riko had no way to know that Kevin was as good at Exy as he’d ever been, maybe even better, but Riko’s opinion was law to the Exy community. Kevin would have to fight even harder to prove he was Class I material now. And he was going to have to whip the Foxes into shape if they weren’t going to drag him down.

Classes became the only time Kevin felt relatively sane. At least in class he could slip away from all his other thoughts for a moment and set his brain strictly to the task at hand. He felt more at peace in his history lecture hall than just about anywhere, except perhaps the Foxhole Court after dark with Neil. They’d kept up their routine of night practices, jogging to the court every night for an extra two hours of practice. But there was still tension left between them, a piece of trust that Kevin had broken and Neil seemed determined to make him earn back.

Everything was turning around in his head, wearing thin on the inside of his skull like it wanted to break free and announce itself to the world, when Kevin slipped out of European history and found Aaron waiting for him on the steps.

Kevin halted in his tracks, causing a string of curses to erupt behind him as someone swerved so as not to run directly into his back. The sight of Aaron felt like a red flag, a warning that screamed _something wicked this way comes_. Nothing good could come of it, of that much Kevin was certain.

When Aaron started walking toward the athletes’ cafeteria without a word, Kevin took the silent order to fall into step beside him.

“He’s going to take you both to Columbia this weekend,” Aaron said blandly, as if his words didn’t cause an irregularity in Kevin’s heartbeat. Kevin had heard enough veiled comments from Matt or Dan or Wymack about Columbia to know this wasn’t an invitation to a get-to-know-each-other tea party. “It’s a test. It’s always a test – to see if you’re worth his time.”

Kevin scoffed openly. If there was anything Kevin couldn’t care about less, it was whatever Andrew thought about him. “Andrew’s opinion means less than nothing to me.”

Aaron shot him a look that made Kevin question his intelligence. “It should. Andrew isn’t the kind of person you want to piss off. He’ll either be the one keeping you here, or the one sending you running for the hills.”

That fact Kevin considered. Andrew was terrifying, in a strange sort of way. He was the type of man that knew everyone’s secrets, the kind of man that was unpredictable enough to set even Riko on edge. He’d be a good ally to have – if he ever stopped being batshit crazy long enough to talk. But Kevin had spent too long on the run, too long with Neil, not to be suspicious of Aaron coming to him with this.

“Why are you warning me? Andrew’s your brother. What’s in it for you that would be worth risking his wrath?”

Aaron laughed, truly _laughed_ , and it might have been a pleasant sound if there wasn’t so much bitterness behind it. “You haven’t been around long enough to figure it out yet, but there’s no love lost between me and my brother. Andrew is unpredictable at best, and sociopathic at worst. He’d get himself, me, and Nicky kicked off the team without a second thought. I’m not willing to let that happen.”

Kevin didn’t believe that was the full story, but he let it slide. He didn’t want to get any more involved with Minyard family drama than being a member of the team required. “So, you’re telling me I shouldn’t go?” Kevin asked, a twinge of confusion lacing with his surprise.

Aaron stopped, once again looking at Kevin like he was missing something crucial. “No. I’m telling you to go, and bring Josten with you, but don’t be an idiot.” Aaron hissed out a sigh of exasperation when Kevin still looked confused. “Andrew despises secrets, and he can and will make both your lives a living hell until he gets what he wants. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to bend, and it’ll be a hell of a lot easier on everyone if you do it now.”

Warning or threat, Kevin let Aaron’s advice go in one ear and out the other. He’d already given everyone enough – anything else put Neil even more at risk, and he wasn’t letting that happen. He mustered as much bravado as he had left, quirking a brow of disdain, and said, “Whether it’s easy on the lot of you is none of my concern. Andrew is just going to have to get used to the word ‘no’.”

A choked, surprised laugh left Aaron’s mouth. “We’ll see how long that lasts. Everyone breaks eventually, and you’ll come to realize that life’s a lot better when Andrew’s on your side. Or, well, as much on your side as Andrew can be.”

The short blonde didn’t wait for Kevin to respond, but strode onward as if he’d never been talking to Kevin in the first place. Kevin was getting tired of people walking away when the conversation was so clearly unfinished. It seemed everyone in South Carolina had a likeness for dramatic exits.

Despite his best efforts to forget the conversation, Kevin couldn’t stop mulling it over in his mind on his way back to the dorm. Neil would be on his way back from calculus about now, but Kevin wasn’t sure he wanted to address the prospect of Columbia with Neil yet. Not when he barely knew what he thought of it himself.

There had been truth to Aaron’s warning. In the short time he’d been with the Foxes, Kevin had already come to realize that life was easier when Andrew wasn’t fighting you. Even the upperclassmen, who, all except Renee, seemed to have a mile-long list of reasons to loathe the goalkeeper, gave Andrew a wide birth and seemed only to challenge him on anything when it came to Exy. Though Seth and Matt were his roommates now, neither of them had spilled what made the cousins so unanimously hated amongst the team.

Whatever it was, it had to be big. Because the mere mention of Columbia set Dan, Seth, and Allison seething, and made Matt look like he wanted to crawl eight feet underground and never come out again. Curiosity had won out on Kevin eventually, and he’d asked Abby about it when he’d shown up early for practice one day, but she’d only given him one of her sad smiles and told him some things were better left in the past. Which was true, but felt like a crock of shit considering Kevin had to spend the next four years of his life playing on the same court as the asshole.

Truth be told, Kevin despised the manic Minyard more by the day. All the Foxes were talented to some degree, though lord knew they needed an endless amount of polishing before they could ever be condescended upon to be deemed great, but Andrew was one of the best goalkeepers Kevin had ever seen. And he didn’t give a damn about any of it.

Kevin had to believe it was the medication. There was no other situation in which he could ever understand Andrew’s apathy towards life, but especially towards Exy. How could someone be so gifted with something, and not care about it at all? It was a future. It was Andrew’s name in the record books. It was an invitation to the US Court, that much Kevin was sure of. And Andrew didn’t even seem to want it.

All the other Foxes, save Seth, who spent more time complaining than improving, were fighting with everything they had to get better every day. Dan spent extra hours in Wymack’s office after every practice discussing strategy and plays. Matt watched every moved Kevin and Neil made with ruthless intensity, looking for a way to apply their skills to his position. Renee asked questions endlessly, always hunting for another area of her game to improve. Allison played with the ferocity of a cage fighter. Even Aaron and Nicky took Kevin and Neil’s instructions in stride, perhaps throwing a dirty look at their tone of voice, but always working until they could follow point without a second thought. But Andrew – they were lucky if they could even get Andrew to move in the goal.

Maybe there was something to be gained in going to Columbia with the cousins and giving Andrew another crumb of truth. Neil seemed to think that Andrew would accept even the smallest grains of honesty, at least for a time. What if they offered Andrew something, in exchange for his game?

Victory was a taste in his mouth when Kevin imagined it. If Andrew really tried, if he put in the work, the rest of the team would push themselves even harder. Screw Riko and his public defacing of Kevin’s skill. He could verbally trash Kevin all he wanted, but when Kevin took the Foxes to the court and they started racking up wins, he’d choke on his own words.

There had to be something they could give. Some small truth that Neil would be willing to part with. Or maybe Neil didn’t need to admit anything at all. Maybe Andrew would only need details about Kevin, about the Ravens. Maybe that would be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally supposed to be three times as long, and also encompass the impending trip to Columbia, but that scene is even worse than Andrew's POV to get right, so I figured I'd buy some time and give you guys this little snippet.  
> Thank you to everyone who comments and gives feedback - all your comments are honestly my motivation to keep writing. Love you all, thank you so much for your support.

**Author's Note:**

> Really hope you guys like this!  
> Any questions/concerns/feedback would be appreciated.  
> As a last side note, my tumblr is @colestclairs if I'm ever not active here and you have questions!


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